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*y of th. 

894.5111 B 
Bowring, John, Sir. 
Poetry of the Magyars 




Literature & Language Department 
455 Fifth Avenue 
New York, New York 10016 





















LONDON, January 30 th, 1830. 


- *; 


I SHOULD think with less concern of the 
delay which has taken place since the an- 
nouncement of this Volume, if I believed I 
had succeeded even to the extent of my 
own anticipations in producing a work of 
interest and value. Nothing can be more 
indulgent than the criticisms which, from 
time to time, have noticed the attempts I 
have made to bring the Poetry of other 
lands to the hearths and homes of England. 
I can truly say, had I myself been the critic 
they would have been judged with far greater 
severity. Another race of poets are now 
candidates in my hands for the good opi- 
nion of my countrymen ; but on this occa- 


sion the claim to a candid, to a forbearing 
judgment, is stronger than I have ever before 
had to urge. 

The Magyar language stands afar off 
and alone. The study of other tongues will 
be found of exceedingly little use towards 
its right understanding. It is moulded in 
a form essentially its own, and its construc- 
tion and composition may be safely referred 
to an epoch when most of the living tongues 
of Europe either had no existence, or no in- 
fluence on the Hungarian region. 

Distance, too, has made the mission of 
books, and even the communication of ideas, 
tardy, uncertain, and expensive. Many 
valuable documents have been lost, or have 
lingered beyond the period when I could 
employ them usefully. One delay becomes 


the parent of many, and in the mean time 
the mind gets diverted, as mine has too 
frequently been, to other and more imme- 
diately attractive topics. My book goes 
forward, then, 

" With all its imperfections on its head." 

They would have been many more but for 
the watchful care of my friend MAYER, to 
whom I offer this public testimony of my 

There are some, I know, who look upon 
the occupations of a Translator as ignoble and 
unworthy of literary ambition. I am well 
content to stand at respectful distance from 
those great intellects whose works are borne 
on the wings of an all-pervading fame to 
every country where the ear of civilization 
is listening. Yet I cannot believe that my 


humble labors are useless, nor have I ever 
wanted, and I hope I never shall want while 
health is vouchsafed to me, both encourage- 
ment and enthusiasm to pursue them. My 
mission, at all events, is one of benevolence, 
I have never left the ark of my country 
but with the wish to return to it, bearing 
fresh olive branches of peace and fresh gar- 
lands of poetry. I never yet visited the 
land where I found not much to love, to 
learn, to imitate, to honor. I never yet saw 
man utterly despoiled of his humanities. 
In Europe, at least, there are no moral nor 
intellectual wildernesses. Let others go 
forth with me to gather its fruits and 

J. B. 



I FOLLOW in thy footsteps, yet afar ; 

Thou hear'st the voice I but the echoes hear, 

Of the time-consecrated Magyar ; 

And while they vibrate in my spirit, bear 

The music, ere it dies upon the ear, 

To the old halls of England where there are 

Spirits of love, of sympathy sincere, 

To welcome, as from some new-beaming star. 

All I can bring of beauty, light, and song. 

Say to Hungaria, she shall stand among 

The lands which Poetry with glory girds ; 

And if not mine, some happier lot 'twill be 

To fling the wreath of fame o'er her and thee, 

With sweeter harmony and loftier words. 



On the Magyar Language i 

On Magyar Literature xxiii 

Magyar Biographical Sketches xxxi 


Conquest of the Magyar Land 2 


Ballad of the Emperor's Daughter ; or the History 
of Michael Szilagyi and Ladislaus Hajmasi ...... 11 


Song of the Turkish Youth 17 


The Gay-plumed Bird 20 

Dangers of Love 22 

The False Maid 24 

The Answer 26 


Water, Wind, Reputation 29 

The Three Idlers of King Matthew Corvinus 30 


The Bugaczian Csarda , 32 


The Wren and the Owl 37 


To the Muses. 41 



Stillness ................................... 42 

Song ........................................ 43 

Aurora ...................................... 44 


Elegiac Stanzas .............................. 46 

To the Moon ............................... 48 

The Shepherd and the Tree .................... 50 


The Frogs .................................. 52 

Her Image . . . ............................... 58 

Fable : The Badger and the Squirrel ............ 59 

The Beloved .............................. 6'0 

The Epigram ............................... 62 

Sounet ..................................... 63 

Versification ................................ 65 

To Minui .................................. 66 

To my Joy- Giver ............................ 67 

Separation ................................. 68 

Cupid on a Lion ............................ 69 


The Faithful Maiden .......................... 71 

Secret Sorrow ................................ 72 


Hymn to Wisdom ....................... . . . 74 


I. Dal. 7 ................................... 79 

I. Dal. 13 ................................. 80 

I. Dal. 26 ................................. 81 

I. Dal. 51 ............................... ... 82 

I. Dal. 57 .................................. 83 

I. Dal. 154 ................................. 84 

I. Dal. 172 ....................... ........... 85 

I. Dal. 176 . 86 



If. Dal. 16 87 

IF. Dal. 41 88 

II. Dal. 44 89 

II. Dal. 75 90 

II. Dal. 87 91 

II. Dal. 130 92 

II. Dal. 168 93 


Shepherd Song of Furedi 95 

Cottager's Soug 97 

Love and Friendship 99 

To Lidi , 


To Czenczi 102 

To Czenczi 103 

The Moon 104 

To an Envious Man 105 


The Strawberry 107 

To Bacchus 109 

To my Friend 113 


Evening Twilight 115 

To Ernestine 117 

The Dance 119 

Phillig 121 

My Portion 122 

Spring 124 


The Little Tree 126 

Spring's Termination 127 

The Forest 128 

Merit , , 129 



To Hope 131 

Isabel 132 

The Happy Pair 133 

Echo 134 


The Enthusiast and Philosopher 136 

Hussar Song 138 

Rules and Nature 140 


Life and Fancy 142 

Ages of Life 147 

Sound of Song 152 


Lovely Lenka 154 

Boat Song 157 

To Fancy , 159 


Goddess of Youth 162 

The Playful Eros 163 


Love's Festival , 166 

The Flower- Gatherer 1 68 

My Wish 169 

To my Fair One 1 70 

The Mistake 171 


Lovely Maid 173 

Cserhalom 176 


To my Beloved 197 

To Justice , 198 



True Wisdom 200 

To Envy 201 


The Sun 204 


The Kiss 20G 

The Shower 207 

The Little and the Great Boy 208 

Time 209 

The Beloved 210 

The Fair and the Brown Maiden 212 

Slavonian Danceress 213 

Reproach 214 

Dirge 216 

A Bacsian Song 217 

Comfort 218 

The Difference 221 

Invitation ... 222 

The Idler 224 

The Pipkin 225 

Dancing Song 226 

Pastoral 228 

One Word 230 

The Little Bird 231 

The Complaint of the Young Wife 232 

Song of the Vesprems 233 

Miska 235 

Marosian Song 236 

The Stork 237 

The Brown Maiden 238 

The Betyar's Song 239 

Song of the Shepherd of Matra 240 

The Parting Girl 243 

Sympathy . , 245 



Sweet Stephen 248 

Song 249 

Sweet Spirit 250 

Come Hither 251 

Discovery 252 

Love's Conquest 253 

Unrequited Love 256 

Bliss 259 

Despondency 260 

Examination 26 1 

The Human Heart 263 

Youth 265 

The Bride 267 

The Magyar Dance 269 

Disdain 272 

My Error 273 

The Pilgrimage 275 

Drinking Song 277 

The Tiszian 279 

Fortune 281 

Departure 282 

Farewell 283 

My Angel , 284 

Constancy 285 

Life 286 

Passion 287 

The Csutora Song 289 

True Love 291 

Sincerity 292 

Trembling 293 

Korosian Waters 294 

Song of Farsan 295 

The Magyar Maid 296 

Fiiredi Festal Song 297 

Popular Dancing Song 298 







AFTER a long period of inertness and almost of 
oblivion, the language and literature of Hungary 
seem starting into a new and vigorous existence. 
A band of distinguished writers have appeared 
with the present generation, whose privilege it 
has been at once to will and to effect the regene- 
ration of their native idiom, which had been sink- 
ing under the indifference of some and the attacks 
of others. Its history has been marked by many 
vicissitudes. Originating in an age too remote 
to be denned or even discovered, and receiving 
from time to time infusions from the various 
tribes and tongues who have visited or been visit- 
ed by the Magyar race, it has yet retained all its 
essential peculiarities, and offers to the inquirer 
some of the most curious topics of research. 
Space, however, will allow nothing here but a 



slight sketch of some of its more remarkable cha- 

The roots of the Magyar are for the most part 
exceedingly simple and monosyllabic, but their 
ramifications are numerous, consistent, and beau- 
tiful. I know of no language which presents such 
a variety of elementary stamina, and none which 
lends itself so easily and gracefully to all the mo- 
difications growing out of its simple principles. 
These modifications are almost always postfixed, 
and invariably they harmonize with the preceding 
part of the word. 

The accent is not necessarily on the root of a 
word, which in verbs is to be sought in the third 
person singular of the present tense. The ana- 
logy between words and things is very striking 
and not only extends to objects with which sound 
is associated, but sometimes is observable even 
to the eye. Dorug (it thunders) affects the ear; 
villain (it lightens) has an obvious propriety even 
in the appearance of the words. Many noises are 
admirably represented by the words which convey 
the idea; as, forr (it boils), tor (it breaks), cseng 
(it rings), peng (it rings, i. e. speaking of coins), 
hang (sound). No eight monosyllables in any 
language could convey a more complete image of 
the horrors of war than does Kisfaludy's verse : 


Mars mord duhe a' mit er, vag, 
Bont, dort, tor, rout, dul, sujt, 61.* 

The voices of animals are also represented by 
characteristic words the bear morog, the lion 
ordit, the owl huhong, the cock kukorit, trie bull 
bombol, the cow bog, the goat mekeg, the lamb 
beget, the pig rofdg, the goose gdgog. 

The most remarkable character of the Magyar, 
and that which gives and preserves a euphony 
beyond the reach of any other language, is the 
separation of the vowels into two classes a, o, u, 
male, and e, i, 6, and ii, female ; while each class 
possesses a separate set of instruments for cre- 
ating all conjugates. f If the last syllable of a 
word have, for example, a masculine vowel, the 
affix must be made to agree with it. A wonder- 
ful uniformity of character and harmony of sound 

* The murderous rage of Mars, which, whatever it reaches, 


Wastes, shakes, breaks, destroys, uprends, scatters, and 

f Verseghi divides the vowels into four classes, which he calls, 

1, Base-vowels a, o, and u. 

2, Tenor-vowels 6 and ii. 

3, Alt-vowel e. 

4, Discant- vowel i. 

The first, he says, must have a base-vowel for its suffix. 
The second and third can never take a suffix from the first. 
The fourth is neutral, and sometimes takes a suffix from all the 


are the necessary consequence of this simple and 
appropriate machinery. Thus, for example, ando 
and endo are the signs of the participle future, 
and are used the first for the male, as hal 9 root 
of haldl (death), makes halando, will die, or 
dieable ; and the second for the female, as eg, 
root of 4gni (to burn), Agenda, will burn, or 
burnable as and es, as olvasds (reading), from 
the root olvas, reads and szenvede's (suffering), 
from szenved suffers at and et, as gondolat 
(thought), from gondol, thinks epulet (a build- 
ing), from 6pul 9 builds. So, again, the compara- 
tive is formed of abb or ebb, according to the 
ultimate syllable ; as draga dear, drdgdbb dearer 
boles wise, bulcsebb wiser. Sag and seg make 
a quality from a personification bardlsqg, friend- 
ship, from barat, friend emberseg, manhood, from 
ember, man : talon, telen, denote absence ; as, 
szobdtalan, without a chamber k^retlen, unasked, 
i. e. without asking. And so are the Hungarian 
plurals, according to the vowels of the singular, 
formed in ok, ok, or ek. The same modification 
runs through all the declensions and conjugations. 
This division of the language into male and 
female words may be pursued in its influences to 
some very curious results. It will be found that 
the letters a and o are usually employed in the 
words to which the ideas of grandeur, vastness, 


weight, and pomp, attach, such as t6, the lake ; 
nap, the sun ; hold, the moon ; tabor, a camp ; 
had, war that e and i occur where swiftness or 
alacrity are denoted ; as, vig, gay ; vidit, to exhi- 
lirate that disagreeable associations are usually 
connected with u; as, rut, ugly; buta, stupid; 
bit, grief: o and ii generally represent vagueness 
and confusion ; as, goz, vapor ; fust, smoke ; sotti, 
dark ; god'or, ditch ; siirii, thick. So the short 
vowels for the most part express rapidity, and the 
long ones slowness; as sebes, hasty; rdpiil,to fly; 
szalad, to run lassu, slow ; csusz, creeps ; mdsz, 
crawls* In the same manner it will be found 
that the hard and soft consonants are adapted to 
the different ideas conveyed ; as for example, ko, 
stone ; Jtard, sabre ; durva, rude ; while Idgy, 
anya, ledny, soft, mother, girl, have a sweetness 
suited to the objects they represent.* 

* A very curious example of two distinct meanings to the 
same syllables, when differently arranged, is given in the Szep 
Literaturai Ajandek, for 1820, p. 65. 

Boris te ! nem amor ostoba 

Nyila zorombol. Tsoje 
Meg tompult a' langon. 

Domboru tan Bora kedvelloje. 

Bor Istene ! mamoros toba 

Nyil az orom boltsoje 
Megtompul talan gondom 

For utan. Bor a' kedv Elloje. 


Whatever changes the language, brought by the 
Magyars into Europe, has undergone in conse- 
quence of their intercourse with their neighbours, 
the construction has been little changed, and re- 
tains its Asiatic forms. The words which have 
been introduced have mostly undergone an Hun- 
garian modification, and of late the language has 
obtained a decided mastery over the Latin, which, 
for many centuries, had been the instrument of 
law and literature. That it presents many diffi- 
culties to the student, is certain. It has sounds 
which, though they may be collected from other 
languages, are combined in none the French 
eu, u, and j, the German 6 and ii, the Spanish 1!, 

n, the Russian t[ and ITT the Italian gi, and 

many others. Then again its Eastern peculiari- 
ties. Its precision, however, facilitates the right 
understanding of it, as do the simple and efficient 
rules by which all its conjugates are made. Of any 
adjective an active verb may be formed by the 
addition of etni, and a substantive by the addi- 
tion of sag or seg. The same form of conjugates 
is used for substantives, pronouns, adjectives, 
numerals, and verbs. These conjugates are sim- 
ple additions to, and never alterations of, the root, 
and are throughout postpositions, which some- 
times, when gathered up one after another, pre- 


sent a curious aspect; as Idt (sees), the root; 
Idthat, he can see ; Idtds (seeing or sight) ; Idto, 
the seeer (the prophet) ; Idtni, to see ; Idtatlan, 
unseen; Idthato, seeable ; Idthatosdg, seeable* 
ness; Idtatatlan, unseeable; Idthttttalak, I might 
have seen thee ; Idthatatlansdg, unseeableness ; 
Idtliatatlonoknak) to the unseeable (pi. Dat.). 

In the Magyar alphabet the y, after g, 1, n, and 
t, produces that sound which melts into the fol- 
lowing letler ; as, in French, gn, 11, in mon- 
tagne, medaille : cs, ts, are equivalent to our 
ch ; sz, to s ; zs, to the French j ; tz or cz to 
z; and s to the English sh. The effect of an 
accent is to lengthen the vowel ; 6 and ii (6 and 
u, or o and u long) have nearly the sounds of the 
French eu and u. The whole number of sounds 
in the Magyar is thirty- eight, and their ortho- 
graphy, like that of all the Gothic and Slavo- 
nic nations, has to struggle with the imper- 
fections of the Roman alphabet in representing 
sounds unknown to the Latins. The character- 
istic of the Latin alphabet is poverty, and its 
inconvenience and inaptitude to many of the 
idioms into which it has been introduced, are 
very striking. It is thus that strangers are so 
perplexed with our two th's, as in thing and that ; 
the lp and the $ of the Anglo Saxons, the 6 and 


the 8 of the modern Greeks. If the Polish and 
Bohemian tongues present a strange appear- 
ance to the eye, it arises from the blending to- 
gether of many consonants to represent a single 
sound. The letters c, q, and x, are wanting to 
the Magyar alphabet. Some of the inconveni- 
ences of the small number of letters are avoided 
by accents. In the word ertelem, for example, 
the e has three distinct sounds. 

The introduction of an accent frequently gives 
a word a completely different signification. Sets, 
eagle ; sds 9 reed ; sz u, woodworm ; szu, heart ; 
por } dust ; por, peasant. 

So again many words have two meanings; as, 
ido, time and weather; het, week and seven; 
mip, sun and day. These, however, bear the ob- 
vious names of original identity. 

The native Hungarian cannot combine two 
consonants in the same syllable. The words in 
the language which present such a combination 
are foreign. The presence of many consonants 
in a word is always a source of difficulty to 
foreigners, and is one of the main sources of mo- 
difications. In Spanish, s followed by a conso- 
nant has almost always an e, making another 
syllable before it; as, estrada, for strada; espada, 
for spada : so the Magyar iskola for school. 


Iii the Finnic branches of language some very 
extraordinary changes will be found, produced by 
this circumstance. And in Hungarian scarcely 
less ; as, Gorog, Greek ; Ferencz, Francis. 

The Magyar is absolutely devoid of genders, 
and the female sex is always expressed by a dis- 
tinct word.* It has only a definite article, az, ez^\ 
which is at the same time a demonstrative pro- 
noun. It has only one declension, and the pos- 
sessive pronouns are suffixa to the nouns, as are 
the personal pronouns to the verbs, modifying 
both nouns and verbs to a singular uniformity ; 
as for example, 

szeretet) love ; 
szeretni, to love: 

szeretet em, 

my love; 

szeretet unky 

our love. 


I love ; 


we love. 


thy love ; 


your love. 


thou lovest ; 


you love. 

szeretet e, 

his love ; 


he loves. 

Gibbon says, that " the Hungarian bears a 
close and clear affinity to the idiom of the Fennic 
race, i. e. the Finnish, Laplandish, and Estho- 
nian." He is an indifferent authority in philo- 
logical matters. The words of identity are really 
few far fewer than will be found common to the 

* It is a curious fact that him is one of the words which re- 
present the male gender in Magyar. 

f Egy (one) is a numeral and not an article. 


Magyar and German, or even the Magyar and 
Latin. There are some curious affinities, but 
they are not peculiar in the construction of the 
Finnish and the Hungarian : the copulative con- 
junctions, prepositions, interrogative adverbs, and 
possessive pronouns, are all postfixed to the 
nouns. The adjectival termination es, and the 
possessive em, are common to the Lappish and 
the Magyar. The Magyar mene, and the Estho- 
nian minne, are conjugates of substantives de- 
noting action, and k is a diminutive in both. 
The Hungarian and Finmark plural nominative 
ak, ek, are identical ; in Finnish the plural is 
formed by h. Beijegassi's work* has traced the 
affinities of the Magyar into twenty eastern and 
half the number of western languages. Gyar- 
mathf has written with extreme minuteness on 
the resemblance between the Hungarian and the 
Finnish. He produces a number of words 
ending, for the most part, in as, es, is, os, 
and ad, which are common to both. Neither 
has any gender, and they each form their com- 

* Ueber die Aehnlichkeit der Hungarischen Spraclie mit den 
morgenlaeudischen nebst einer Entwickelung der Natur und man- 
cher bisher unbekannten EigenschafFten desselben von P. Bere- 
gassi. 4to. Leipzig. 1796. 

f Affinitas Linguae Hungaricse cum Linguis Fennicac origin-is 
Grammatice demonstrata. Gottingae. 1799. 



parative in b. Every noun may in both be 
formed into a verb, while the verbs of both have 
some of those peculiar tenses which are not very 
easily translatable into English ; as for example, 







which Gyarmath thus Latinizes. 

maxime amo. 
euro ut amet. 
frequenter amo. 
szeretdegesem frequenter quidem sed 

nimus amo. 
amo aliquantulum 
omnium minime amo. 
facio ut alterum sacpe et 

diu amet. 



In Finnish, Laplandish, and Hungarian, the ad- 
jectives precede the nouns, except where a verb 
interposes. The singular number follows all nu- 
merals, as kilentz nap, nine day, not nine days. 
In both a superlative idea is often communicated 
by a repetition of the positive noun, as kieura, 
kieuraalmafs, (Lap.,) Eros eros ember, (Hung.,) 
a strong, strong man. The verb to have is want- 
ing in the two branches; possession is expressed 
by, to be to, Le mustie kirje, (Lap.,) van nefcem 
kdnyvem A book is to me, i. e. I have a book. 
Doth frequently suppress the verb to be, as 7o 
az t that (is) good, and both employ it in the ge- 


rundial form for the present of the infinite, Euo- 
ben vagyok, (Hung.,) Lden porriem, (Lap.,) I 
am eating.* The Esthonian and Hungarian pro- 
nouns have a strong resemblance. 

Esthonian mis ke kegi miuiia mere teie 

Hungarian mi ki kiki en mi ti 

what who whoever I \ve you. 

And in their expressions of endearment there is 
much similarity of phrase, as Kulla Herra, (Est.,) 
Aranyos Uram, (flung.,) My golden Sir ! 

The affinities with some of the remoter idioms, 
are very remarkable. The word atya, father, is 
(as is well known) one found in a variety of dif- 
ferent tongues, though I suspect its resemblance 
to the first lispings of a child is the secret of 
its extension. But blended with a possessive 
pronoun, the affinities are extraordinary. 

Cher emission Atjam atjat atjase 

Hungarian Atyam atyad attya 

Luplandish Attjain attjatt attjes 

My father thy father his father 

Cheremissian Atjane atjada atjast 

Hungarian Atyank atyatok attyok 

Laplandish Mo attjeh to atjeh attjehs 

our father your father their father. f 

* But Gyarmath is full of extravagant fancies. Many of his 
affinities are as far removed as possible. Who but he would 
have seen a resemblance between Jubmel and 1st en, Adde Stal- 
pai and Addfarkesnali ? 

f Those who would pursue these researches into Tartary, 



Of the affinities of the Magyar with the lan- 
guages which it has been supposed to resemble, 
the following Numerals will enable the reader to 
judge : 



Est lionian 










Ketto or 







Horma or 

Harm a 










































Eleg or 









Dazodik Luatckle 

nel or Tiz- 



Ketto eleg- 

Kuahte loge nal 





K6t-eleg or Kuahte loge 


















Ostiaks Finnish 











may consult Witseu's Noord en Oost Tartarye, Amsterdam, 1/05 ; 
the Collection of Russian Histories, Petersburgh, 1758; and they 
will find a few materials in Pallas's comparative Dictionary, 






3 Kuroni 



4 Nilli 



5 At 



6 Kot 



7 Sat 



8 Nollon 



9 Ontollon 



10 Lou 



11 Akukniplon 


12 Kitkuipkm 

20 Kus 

100 Shat 

1000 Shotz 


















The prosody of the Magyar is very remarkable. 
There is no measure of Latin or Greek rythmus 
to which it does not lend itself. Pyrrhics and 


Spondees abound. The tribrach and molossus are 
not wanting ; and all the intermixtures of long 
and short feet, Iambics, Trochees, Dactyls, and 
anapests. Virag's Magyar Prosodia es Magyar 
Iras,* contains specimens of every classical mea- 
sure. Other specimens of the adaptation of the 
Magyar may be found in his Poesia, at the end of 
his Tragedy of Hunyadi Ldszl6.-\ The first ex- 
ample of measured verse is of the date of 1541. 
The dialects of Hungary are not much unlike; . 

* Buda. 8vo. 1820. 

f Buda. 8vo. 1817. 


and there is no part of the country where the 
Magyar is so spoken, as not to be intelligible in 
every other part. The varieties are principally in- 
confounding a and o, and e and i, and in length- 
ening the syllables and words. Two prize Essays, 
one by Horvat, and the other by Gati, on the Dia- 
lects of the Hungarian, were published in 1821. 
The two most distinct idioms are those of Raab 
and Bihar. The Transylvanians, especially the 
Szekely, have a drawling manner of pronouncing 
words which is very singular. They are of Tatar 
origin, and have preserved a greater number of 
their original terms.* 


The Hungarians invariably write the baptismal 
after the family name. Thus, Thaisz Andrds 
(Andrew Thaisz, the translator of the Scottish 
Romances) ; this rule even extends to foreign 
names, as in the title to these translations, Scott 
Walter Romdnjai. Hungarian women do not 
abandon their family names when they marry. 

As in every other tongue of ancient date, a de- 
mand for new words, accommodated to an ad- 
vanced cultivation, has been felt in the Hungarian. 

* Consult, for some curious particulars concerning them, En- 
gel's Geschichte des Ungarischen Reichs and seiner Nebeltinder. 
Halle, 1797. 


reign kings, the Hungarian was employed for laws 
and ordinances, and was used as the Court lan- 
guage under Charles and Louis of Anjou. There 
is a Magyar partition-document, dated 1339. 
There are, too, Hungarian oaths sometimes at- 
tached to Latin laws, for the better understanding 
of the people. The form of the Coronation Ap- 
peal, used at this epoch by the Primate of the 
kingdom, the Archbishop of Gran, to the assem- 
bled orders, is still preserved. Three times he 
demanded Akarjatok 6 hogy e jelenlevo N. N. 
kirdlysdgra korondztdssgk, " Will you that N. N. 
here present be crowned for our king?" And 
the answer thrice repeated was, Akarjuk el/en, 
elfen, 6ljen 9 a' kirdly " We will, Live, live, live 
the king." 

There have been from time to time royal de- 
clarations in favour of the Hungarian language. 
In 1527, Ferdinand the First publicly declared 
that " he would preserve the Magyar tongue and 
people with all his power and means;" and, in 
1569, there is in the statutes of Maximilian the 
following words : "Et casu quo suam majestatem 
a regno longius abesse contingeret unum ex filiis 
loco sui et si usque possibile sit, in Ungaria ut 
linguam quoque gentis addiscant, relinquere." 

The Princes of the Habsburgh House have 


given all possible encouragement to the predomi- 
nance of the German tongue in Hungary. As 
there has been for centuries no kingly court at 
Buda, the language has suffered something from 
the want of that protection which fashion com- 
municates. The Emperor Joseph issued a Hun- 
garian decree during the tumults which disturbed 
his reign ; and, in 1 790, the Diet encouraged the 
language by a specific law ; but the Diet has not 
ventured to make the Magyar the recognized lan- 
guage for official communication. Something like 
this was anticipated from their last assembly in 
1825-27, but the public expectation was disap- 

There are many Hungarian grammars, of which 
the oldest is that of John Erdosi, printed at 
Vissigath, in 1539. Another was published by 
Albert Molnar in 1610, of which an improved 
edition appeared at Vienna in 1788. Aleliboi's 
Ungarischer Sprachmeister, (Presburg, 1787, 6th 
ed.,) and Jos. Farkas' Gmndliche und Neu Ver- 
besserte Ungarische Sprachlehre, originally printed 
in 1771? have been reprinted from time to time, 
the latter with additions and amendments by P. de 
Kis Szonto, and Jos. von Marton. Sam. Gyar- 
math's Kritische Grammati/c, in 2 vols., is a more 
elaborate production 3 and Paul Bersgszdszi's 
Fersuch einer Magyarischen Sprachlehre has a 


particular view to the affinities between the Hun- 
garian and the Oriental tongues. This is also 
the object of Verseghi's A ' tiszta Magyarsag, 
or " the pure Hungarian tongue," which has led 
to a philological controversy, in which he has 
been attacked by Joh. Miklosi, in a volume enti- 
tled Verseghi Ferentz nek Tisztdtalan Magyarsd- 
ga, or Fr. Verseghi's impure Hungarian Tongue.* 
Jos. von Marten's Hungarian and German Dic- 
tionary is the best. The last edition of Fr. Paris 
Papais' Dictionarum Latine-Hungaricum con- 
tains a history of all the vocabularies of the Ma- 
gyar tongue. 

* Mithridates, Vol. II. 781-3. 





> ' ^ i ' * * 



;<. '. . . . 

Various are the opiuibi,is;re^pectiog:,t[l)'^. origin 
of the Hungarian people. 'E>r: Fi Thomas has 
written three volumes to prove them to be de- 
scended from the ancient Egyptians.* The word 
Hungariai is of Mogol root, and was originally 
Ugur or Ingur, meaning foreigner or stranger. 
The Hungariai denominate themselves and their 
language Magyar, which was undoubtedly the 
name of one of the tribes from which they sprung. 
In the fourth century they took possession of the 
land of the Bashkir (Tartars), between the Volga, 
Tobol, and Jaik. They were subdued by the 
Turks in the sixth century ; and in the seventh, 
eighth, arid ninth, they associated themselves with 
the Chazars in Lebedia, (now the province of 
Katherinoslav, ) and subsisted by robbery and 
ravage. In the middle of the ninth century they 

* Conjecturge cle Origiuc, priina sedc et lingua Hungarorum. 
Budre, 1806. 3 Vols. 



. . 

*' called -in Dv-^atislaiv, Duke of Moravia, to 

m ' , *** ' " 

assist him *affainst % tii ^.ermans ; and not loriff 

* ***.** 

after, 'their territory* being. intruded on by the 

Pechenegers, they took up their abode under the 


Ca-rpathian mountains, Eulil .combined with King 

***! * * 

.V-AYi>ulf against their .fowiier.* Moravian allies. In 
* /'** * * * * 

tli^ic-afesence the Buk^vHtuis had devastated their 

proV*b'i 9 ; hd 'tl\ey''ib.6k- possession of a part of 

*' * \' ** "***T*%* 

Galicia^tut; afterwaAas" broke through the Car- 

j * * 

paths toWards * Munkach, attacked the Bulga- 
rians on the river Theiss, and seized a part of 
Pannonia. They were at this period composed 
of seven tribes, of which the Magyar was the 
strongest, and ultimately gave its name to all the 
rest. A part of the race still occupied Bashkiria, 
and are mentioned by Carpini in 1246, and Ru- 
brivis in 1251, who speak of them as having ori- 
ginally gone forth from the Bashkirs. In our 
time, however, no fragments of the Magyar lan- 
guage are left in Bashkiria, though Von Orlay 
reports that one of the Caucasian tribes is still 
called Ugrkhi (Hungarians) by the Russians, and 
uses an Hungarian dialect. Among the Hunga- 
rians it has always been a favorite theory to con- 
sider themselves as Huns, with little other reason 
than the similarity of name. The Huns were 
undoubtedly a Mongolian race, and nothing can 



be more unlike than the 'vihguugesy shatters,, 
persons, and habits, ^fr'-t'he Hungarians and the 
Mongolians. Of late, a theory that the Hunga- 
rians and Finlanders have a common origin, has 
found many intelligent advocates ; but probably 
nothing more than the. orientalism of both caffb'e 

deduced from the affinitie^of their language 1 , 1 v ? ' 

- . v '^?. ' '. " 

We know little of Etelc (Attija,)'. except from 

5 * * i i -* ^* 

testimony which must be received withuiu* great- 
est distrust. Priscus Rhetor, who was sent by 
Theodosius the Second to the Court of Etele, 
speaks of the fondness of the Huns for their na- 
tive language, and of the festal songs in which, 
after their festivals, the deeds of their heroes were 
celebrated in so touching a style, that the aged 
men of the assembly shed many tears. He men- 
tions also, that when Etele returned to his castle, 
he was met by maidens in white veils, who greet- 
ed him with Scythian hymns. During the reign 
of the Arpadian kings, which brings us down to 
the beginning of the 14th century, (Andreas Ve- 
neta having been poisoned in 130J,) many are the 
references to the Joculators and Trufators,* the 
Poets and Jesters, who were always to be found 

* Trufator, Tnifa, (now Trefa,} is an old Magyar word for 
Jest. Schedel asks if Troubadour, Trobador, and Trufator, may 
not be synonymous. 


. . 

abe'jut *fcfe*e '.person.* o 'yb^Vaonarch. And Galeotti, 
thalibraricrn'of King M'a*ilfiKis, asserts that his fa- 
ther; the celebrated John^lrltmyadi, awakened the 

martial spirit of his master. by the hero-songs 

which he caused to be reciCed/to him. " At table 
.; v 

.*ttl9/'' ' ne sa y s ? " musicians .and cithara players 

st&gi.the deeds of valiqiH, warriors in their native 

* * ** ****** * * *jt * 

tongpfeyjto' JiUe. ip vfsic\qf \fche lyre an usage," he 

*!* -t . * ** 

continueg^/ c y browglifr from Rome, and which 

V * * * 

passed from* ifs '(Italians) even to the Hungari- 
ans."* At this period the literary influence of 
Italy upon Hungary was very remarkable, and 
Dante has expressed in his Paradise a bright an- 
ticipation for the 

Beata Ungria ! se nou si lascia 

Piu malmenare. Cant. xix. 

But of this period little remains, except such 
scattered notices and fragments as are scarcely 
remarkable enough to occupy a place in this brief 

Simon von Reza is the first of the Hungarian 
Chroniclers. His history is from the earliest 
times down to the end of the thirteenth century. 

* Of one of the Hungarian Bishops, Galeotti writes, " Per- 
placuit etiain mini ilia familis suae dignitas et elegantia semper 
cnim in ejus domo aut oratur aut studetur aut carmen cantatnr 
ad lyram aut scrmo habctur honestus." Cap, 31. 


John von Kukullo wrote; th^ 'Life' of LevvU the 
First, 13421382, a^.-d John De Turocz publish- 
ed a Chronicle of the Kingdom of Hungary down 
to the year 1473, in which he has introduced, 
word for word, the writings of his above-men- 
tioned predecessors, as, well as the Chrottfaoji- 
Budense of an anonymous author printed, af'^jida 

in 1473.* V /' '' ' V'''v>*' 

The battle of Mohacs- (:1&26) is tjU> r Dies 

" ' ' - -, \ ' 1-i 
irse" of the Hungarians, and its story of defeat 

and humiliation is more melancholy from its so 
immediately following a period of hope and of 
brightness. Hungary had been enlightened by the 
efforts of her own sons, and by the influx of illus- 
trious strangers, as if merely to contrast with the 
darkness of Turkish oppression. The Reformation 
which soon after this period broke in upon the 
land, did much for the language. The spirit of 
Lutheran ism was essentially popular. Its instru- 
ment, the vernacular tongue, especially repre- 
sented in that mighty machine of knowledge and 
of power, the Press, whose efforts have changed 
and continue to change the character of nations, 
and which acts as a security against their perma- 
nent decline and fall, began to exert its beneficial 

* Eichorn, Geschichte der Littcratur, II. 319. 


many printing presses 

existed in 'Hungary. 1 '. 'Thereat circulation of the 
Bible m the vernacular "tongue produced a great 
demand for books. In the cities of Bartfeld, De- 
bretzen, Varad, Neuschfc,* '-Kassa, were printing 
esj?4'olishments supported- by. the public, and the 
TCfXg^fates assisted tbci-^Vef Detrekd, Ujszigeth, 
Gatgoc*' . ' Als'oh.ejldr'a,, ^methuj var, and Papa. 
In the*JJowing century presses were erected in 
Trentsin, Si'iein, Senitz, Puchov, Leutschan, and 
Csessreg. No censorship existed in any shape 
during this period. 

The names of Magyar authors begin now to 
thicken, and a list of chroniclers and poets occupy 
the pages of literary story. The works of this 
period are for the most part biographical and his- 
torical.* The poetry can hardly be said to be 
much elevated above dull and sober prose, the 
ars poetica of the age being little more than the 
art of making common-place sentences dance to 
the jingle of a rhyme. The best poet of the day 
was Tinodi, who wrote both foreign and do- 
mestic history, and who does not seem to have 
had patronage enough to exalt him even above 
bodily suffering; for in a single verse, which he 

* See a Catalogue of these early productions in Sander's Ma- 
gyar Konyveshdz, Raab, 1803, in 8vo. 


introduces more than once., he gives a descrip- 
tion of himself which brings him and his misery 
pictorially before us. It may thus be rendered : 


This was written in his chamber by the penniless Tinodj, 
Often blowing on his fingers, for the cold was in his body.* 

, ' i 

TINODI flourished in the middle of the sixteenth 

1 ' ' 
century. He was employed as a 

suite of Valentine Torok, whp being led captive 
by the Turks to the seven towers, left his poor 
bard to wander over Hungary and Transylvania. 
His works were collected by himself into two 
small quarto volumes in 1554. 

BALASSA (born 1550, died 1594) has a few com- 
positions of some energy and feeling, and one or 
two of his warlike songs are martial and fiery. 
He fell in the siege of Gran. How many of the 
poets of war have been its victims ! His first 
introduction to notice was on occasion of the 
crowning of Rudolf at Presburg in 1572, when he 
exhibited a grotesque peasant dance to the court, 
exciting, says his biographer, the wonder of the 
royal family and of all who saw him. His love 
for poetry is manifest from the pieces he wrote 

* Ennek Ion irasa a' jo kolosvarba 
Tinodi Sebestyen kouyvuyointatasaba; 
Szerze nagy buaba, egy hideg szobaba, 
Gyakran fii kormebc, inert nines penz tasolyaba. 


amidst the .clang df .arms, a few days before his 

death. t ' ' ,''*y/.V 

Some' dramatic writers' belong to this epoch. 
Karadi's Balassa Menyhdrt and Bornemisza's 
Klyikmnestra are the most, .cemarkable. A few 
years' after, we find a description of the sort of 
plays .performed in Transylvania. " Hinc pub- 
licae' falmlae. exhibit^ et comsediae expugnationem 
Caniszej}sem, Turcarum trepidationem fugam et 
futuram stragem, reprsesententes." But both tra- 
gedies and comedies were represented by strolling 
players, both in Hungarian and Latin, to which 
the Jesuits contributed a great number. 

RIMAI is not without some merit as a didactic 
and meditative poet. He was a contemporary of 
Balassa, though the exact dates are unknown of 
his birth and death. 

ERDOSI made the first attempt to break through 
the fetters which rhymes imposed upon the Ma- 
gyar poets, and to introduce the classical proso- 
dial forms. The Bohemians had attempted this 
before, and the first Sapphics of the Germans are 
of the year 1537. In 1 541, Erdosi wrote his " A' 
Magyar nepnek ki czt olvassa" an address to such 
of the Magyars as would read it, in flowing hex- 
ameters. He had for a long time no followers, 
and the singular aptitude of the Hungarian Ian- 


guage for the Greek and Roman measures, seems 
to have continued unobserved, for nearly two cen- 
turies longer. 

ZRINYI appeared at a period which several na- 
tions are disposed to claim as the golden age of 
their literature. He was born in the year in- which 
Shakspeare and Cervantes died the proud era of 
Italy, England, Spain, and Portugal. Zrin.yi is, 
however, the founder of the modern poetry^of the 
Magyars. In 1651, appeared his, Zriniad, an 
epic poem, the produce of those hours which 
military and civil service left him in his busy ex- 
istence. His verses, consisting of four lines of 
twelve syllables, with a common rhyme, have 
given a name to this peculiar stanza. Little can 
be said in favor of his language, style, or versifi- 
cation. They are careless and incorrect, andhis 
battle descriptions are tedious indeed. Yet are 
his conceptions bold and strong. His portraits 
are well drawn, and his groupings happy. His 
facility of writing led him astray ; yet, withal, he 
is undoubtedly far above any poet that had pre- 
ceded him, or any that followed, for a century at 
least. In some of his shorter poems there is 
evidence of a playful and busy fancy. He was 
the representative of a family of great antiquity, 
and was the son of that Ban of Croatia, who was 



poisoned by Wallers tein in 1626. It has been 
said that his sword had been stained with Turkish 
blood before he was ten yars old; and that, in 
after times, crowds of Csmanlis rushed to see a 
hero, " the beautiful, talJ, thin hero/' who had 
been so much the object of their dread. There 
is ari address of Soliman to the Grand Vizier, in 
which .tie directs him, not to desist from attack 


until ,-Iie |ias ' captured Zrinyi, " the author of so 
much riiischief." Zrinyi fought and won many 
battles, but was killed by a wild boar on the 18th 
November, 1664. He had been covered with 
honours from many of the powers of Christendom, 
and was as distinguished for his learning as for 
his courage. He spoke six languages, and was a 
master of the literature of ancient and modern 
times. The first edition of his works appeared at 
Vienna, in 4to., in 1651.* 

LISZTI, a man of considerable condition but of 
barren fancy, printed a long Epic, Mohdcsi ves- 
zedelem, on the Mohacs' defeat. It is in six-lined 
stanzas, the lines of six and seven syllables fol- 
lowing one another, and the whole effect intole- 
rably monotonous. His Lyrics have not this 
defect. In 1659, on account of some charge made 
against him by the King's Fiscal, he was tried by 
* A'driai teugernek Syrenaja, Grof Zriuyi Miklos. 


the Diet, and lost his paternal possessions. This 
is the solitary fact preserved of his history. 

The songs of BENICZKY, who lived in the be- 
ginning of the seventeenth century, are not 
without merit. His Pgldabeszgdek (Proverbs) are 
excellent and condensed moral lessons. He was 
an Eques auratus, but complains in one of his 
poems of his defective education. Of his history 
little is known. His works have been several 
times reprinted, and are popular among the mid- 
dle orders. 

GYONGYOSI deserves little praise except on ac- 
count of his rhymes, which are generally perfect. 
He wrote with great facility ; but he could not re- 
lieve himself from the trammels of ancient my- 
thology, and he has little that is natural or cha- 
racteristic about him. He has passages of beauty, 
and advanced the cultivation of his native tongue; 
but his allegories are often inappropriate, and his 
sentimentality not very natural. Gydngydsi is 
supposed to have been born in 1620, and from 
the early development of talent was called, as a 
page, to the Court of the Palatine in 1640. He 
sang the charms of the Palatiness, Countess Szecsi, 
as the Venus of Murany, so successfully, that she 
rewarded him with the village of Babaluska, In 
1681, he became a representative in the Diet, 


obtained the favour of the then Palatine Eszter- 
hazy, and continued to hold different distinguished 
offices to the time of his death, having reached 
the age of eighty-four. His Kem&iyiad, an epic 
poem, in four books and thirty cantos, was re- 
ceived with great enthusiasm, and his name was 
long one of the most honoured among Hungarian 
writers. In 1796, a complete edition of his works 
was published by Dugonics.* 

KOIIARI did the service, with Beniczy, of break- 
ing down the monotony of the Zrinian quar- 
tet rhyme. He is a moralist, " dwelling among 
the tombs," and bringing the shortness and the 
nothingness of life to bear constantly on his 
moralities. He was born in 1648. He was in 
military service, and suffered all the miseries of 
dungeons and chains and cold and thirst and 
hunger. Delivered from imprisonment, he was 
received with marked distinction ; but soon after, 
being again engaged in war, his right arm was shot 
away by the Turks. Charles the Third advanced 
him to high office and that of Oberstreichs- 
richter, and gave him the privilege of employing 
a silver stamp for his signature, which is often 
mentioned as the Lamina Koharii, in the Corpus 

* Gyongyosi Istvannak kiilteiuenyes maradvanyai. 


Juris of Hungary. His Lyrics he published un- 
der the Latin title of Tintinabulum Tripudian- 
tium. Some of his poems were translated into 
Latin by Sztrakos, and he himself wrote in Latin 
elegantly, as is evidenced by his Chronologra- 
phica Budce composita (1706), and Antidota Me- 
lancholies (1722). He spent the latest part of 
his life in his Castle of Csabrag, where he died in 
1730, leaving a reputation for integrity, which has 
passed into a proverb. 

We come now to an epoch of absolute bar- 

The extinction of the Transylvanian Court was 
a serious blow to the Hungarian tongue ; for its 
employment there made it the language of cour- 
tesy and of commerce. The constant attraction 
of Vienna drew away from the land of the Ma- 
gyars those who might best have given encou- 
ragement to the idiom of their forefathers ; and if 
they returned home, they returned with other 
tastes. Latin and German seemed gradually pre- 
ponderating, and driving out the Magyar from the 
circle of civilization. 

But a reaction at last occurred, and we dis- 
cover a marked revival of Magyar literature. In- 
tercourse with Germany, which at first was the 
bane, became afterwards the blessing, of Hungary ; 


and the writers who agitated Germany with a 
literary reformation, reflected back their influence 
upon the Magyars. And thenceforward, amidst 
some vicissitudes, a gradual progress may be traced 
to the present day; it is obvious the language has 
grown stronger and stronger by exercise, and its 
literature spread wider and wider by cultivation. 
Newspapers and literary journals in the Magyar 
tongue became active agents in its diffusion, and 
it slowly rose from that depression, that persecu- 
tion rather, by which it had so long been visited. 

RADAI, (PAL,) who figures in history as the 
negociator of the peace of Shemnitz with Leopold 
the First, and the representative of Prince Ra- 
koczi, who had been nominated by the French 
Court as the arbitrator between Peter the Great 
and Charles XII., and who struggled for the li- 
berties of his fellow-Protestants with so much 
zeal and talent, published a volume of poetry, 
entitled Lelki Hodolds, (Spiritual Worship,) which 
has preserved its hold on the affections of the 

AMADE was Paul Radai's contemporary, and 
was once deemed the first of Magyar Lyric Poets. 
His verses were learned by heart, and circulated 
in MS. over the land. A few have been printed 
by Kultsar, in his Mulatsdgok, (Amusements, 


1827,) and others are in the progress of publica- 
tion. They do not seem to possess any special 

But FALUDI is the first poet on whose works it 
is possible to dwell with real satisfaction. He 
indeed awoke the Hungarian language, which was 
half-slumbering in his time. The Magyars speak 
of him as the Magyar poet. He caught the spirit 
of some of the Spanish poets, and has translated 
one at least of Gongora's romances. His Tim- 
d&'kert (Enchanted Garden) is admirable. Few 
Lyrics flow more naturally and sweetly than his. 
They are music both to the eye and the ear. 
They are natural outpourings of a happy temper. 
One wishes the ancient mythology far away 
whenever it interrupts, as it frequently does, the 
current of his feelings. Faludi was a Jesuit, and 
spent some years at Rome. He taught Law af- 
terwards in the Vienna Academy, translated 
Gracian, wrote a drama, and was made Librarian 
at Poson. He published a series of volumes 
on Manners, several of which were from transla- 
tions from English. Revai collected his works 
into two volumes, which appeared at Gyor (Raab) 
1786-7. A second edition almost immediately 
followed. Faludi wrote Latin and French as well 


as Magyar verses, and these also are to be found 
in his works. 

GVADANYI is one of the few, the very few, co- 
mic poets of the Magyars. His account of the life, 
death, and journey to Tartarus, of a village no- 
tary,* is witty and amusing, though not always 
in good taste. In his adventures of Count Beny- 
ovsky, and his Paul Ronto, which are the delight 
of the lower orders of the Hungarians, he is 
coarse and vulgar, and his composition is through- 
out careless and incorrect. He was born at Ru- 
dabanya in 1/25, entered the army in his 19th 
year, made many campaigns, and underwent the 
discipline of wounds and imprisonment ; became 
a general in 1773, and died at Skaliz in 1801. 

BESSENYEI has been accused of supplanting a 
greater evil by a lesser one, instead of getting 
rid of both, when he drove out the Zrinian to 
introduce the Alexandrine measure. The charge 
appears to me well founded. The Alexandrine 
verse is one of the most monotonous of the 

* It is in three parts : 

Falusi notarius' Budai utazasa (Presburg, 1790). 
Falusi notarius' pokolba menetele (Basil, 1790). 
Falusi notarius' elmelkedese, betegse'ge s halala (Poson, 


forms of poetry, and is especially monotonous 
in the Magyar, which, with its many poetical 
capabilities, undoubtedly wants variety in its 
ryhmes. But Bessenyei was the representative 
of the French school, and it has been said of 
him, as of many of the French dramatists, that 
his Greeks and Romans are all disfigured French- 
men. Bessenyei was the son of an obscure 
tavern-keeper at Berczel, and was born in 1740. 
He learnt a little Latin in the preliminary school, 
which he soon forgot, and in the course of time 
became a soldier in the Hungarian body-guards 
at Vienna. There he began again to study, mas- 
tered the French language, and was captivated by 
the French literature. He wrote several drama- 
tic pieces, and an imitation of Pope's Essay on 
Man, Az embernek probdja. In the later part of 
his life he became almost wholly a prose writer, and 
published several philosophical works. His ex- 
ample served greatly to impede the project of the 
Emperor Joseph, whose determination to drive 
out the Hungarian by means of the German lan- 
guage, was rash and futile. Bessenyei died in 
1811, an object of great affection and interest 
among the Hungarians. 

ORCZY has much that is artificial. He was al- 
most unknown as a poet, until Revai published 


his works at Presburg in 1787-9. He was an 
officer in the service of Maria Theresa, and ob- 
tained many military honours. 

BARCSAI was of the race of the Transylvanian 
Prince of his name, and was born at Piski in 1742. 
He, like so many other literary men of Hungary, 
took military service, in 1762. He became a Ca- 
tholic in 1779, having been first known as a poet 
about two years before, ReVai did for his writings 
the same service he rendered those of Orczy. The 
works of both were printed in one volume ; and so 
striking is their resemblance that they seem the ema- 
nations of one single mind. They are for the most 
part epistles. In 1794,Barcsai retreated to his rural 
estates in Maros-Solymos, and Csora, which had 
been ravaged by the Wallachians about ten years 
before. In 1806, he was found mortally wounded, 
under a favourite apple-tree, which had been the 
device of his seal, with the inscription, 'Arnyekban 
zoldid (Growing under its shadow). Count Haller 
wrote a funeral oration in French, which was af- 
terwards translated into Hungarian by Kazinczy. 

ANYOS was a follower of Bessenyei in the 
general form of his compositions, but their spi- 
rit is more decidedly Hungarian. There is 
a melancholy tone and tendency in his writ- 
ings which are very harmonious, and portray 


throughout the gentle and amiable man. He 
obtained early academical honours, and, encou- 
raged by the writing of Bessenyei and Baroczi, 
and yet more by the personal influence of Barc- 
sai, he became a decided votary of literature, 
which, amidst the high mountains and deep soli- 
tudes of the convent where he dwelt, (for Anyos 
was a monk,) he pursued with unwearied exer- 
tions. But amidst his brethren of the convent he 
found no kindred spirit, and he left the cloisters 
of Felso-Elefant for the gymnasium of Sze"kes- 
Feje"rvar, in 1782 ; but his health was broken, 
and he died, aged only twenty-eight, two years 
after his settlement there. He was gifted by 
nature with strong sensibilities and kindly affec- 
tions. His works were collected by Baczanyi, 
and published at Vienna, in 1798.* 

HORVATH (ADAM) was the son of a Calvinist 
preacher, and was born in 1760. His mind had 
much versatility, and he devoted himself not to 
poetry alone, but to the study of philosophy, 
theology, mathematics, and history. His Lyrics 
first appeared in the Magyar Musa, a weekly 
periodical of Hungary. In 1787? he published an 
Epic Poem (Hunnias), of which John Hunyadi is 

* Anyos Pal' miuiUaji. 8vo. 


the hero, which had a brilliant but a short-en- 
during fame. His collection of Trans danubian 
Popular Songs, is interesting and valuable. His 
Plays are scarcely worth notice. He wrote with 
wonderful ease, sometimes producing a hundred 
strophes in a day. But to write fast and to write 
well are not the same thing ; and the offer which 
he once made to write a drama per week, is a poor 
credential for his reputation. He was rash in his 
judgments, though honest in his purposes ; con- 
demned the literature of other countries, because 
he did not understand it ; and, like too many 
critics, imagined that censure and snarling were 
wisdom and wit. He began an Encyclopedia, 
which was a great desideratum for his country. 
Spite of his weaknesses, he was beloved and ho- 
nored, and died in 1820, having obtained the 
office of District Judge and Curator of the Re- 
formed Church. 

DUGONICS lived at a period when the policy of 
the Austrian Emperor, in attempting to root out 
the national tongue of the Magyars, aroused a body 
of patriotic opposers. His national romances 
greatly aided the popular feeling but his higher 
flights are all failures. He was bom in 1740, at 
Szegedin, and was received as a priest among 
the Trail sylvaoian Piarists. Dwelling amidst the 


scenes, and dreaming of the events of ancient 
Dacia, his mind was soon wholly engaged in an- 
tiquarian studies. The first of his romances, 
which obtained distinguished attention, was his 
Etelka. (Poson, 1787-) He wrote many dra- 
mas, but they have little value, and several prose 
histories. The most valuable by far of all his 
productions is his Magyar pelda besz^dek 4s jeles 
Monddsok, a very useful philological work. He 
wrote less for the highly cultivated than for the 
middling classes, among whom he labored with 
great effect. He was a man of fine presence 
and ready wit, and he died, after a happy old age, 
in 1818. 

MOLNAR had, in 1760, opposed the universal 
employment of hexameters, and introduced with 
much acceptableness many of the ancient mea- 
sures. A classical school soon grew up. Its 
leaders were Baroti Szabo, the translator of Virgil, 
a man who was thoroughly imbued with the cha- 
racteristics of the Augustan age, and who, by dint 
of labour, managed to give specimens of most of 
the ancient forms of verse ; Rajnis, not a great 
poet certainly, but an agreeable poetical painter ; 
and the third, Revai, an admirable translator, and 
a grammarian, whose writings on language have 


been important auxiliaries to the Magyar stu- 

BAROTI was born at Barot in Transylvania, and 
was educated by the Jesuits at Trencsen. When 
the order was abolished he obtained a professor- 
ship at Kassa (Kaschau Germ.), having previously 
made those experiments on the Magyar prosody 
which proved that it might be easily and happily 
adapted to all the antique forms of poetry. These 
novelties led to much literary discussion, and the 
controversy gave him new encouragement to pro- 
ceed in his classical career. He knew no lan- 
guage except Hungarian and Latin, and fighting 
his way with honour through many a philological 
controversy, he died, aged fourscore, amidst 
" labor," but not amidst sorrow. 

RAJNIS was the son of a German, and born in 
1741. Educated by the Jesuits, and thoroughly 
acquainted with the Greek language, he began, in 
early life, to write Hungarian verses in the clas- 
sical measures. To this form of composition he 
continued devoted, and published, in 1781, at 
Gyor, a collection entitled Magyar Helikonra 
vezfrlo kalauz, Guide to the Magyar Helicon. In 

* Especially his Grammar. 


this he insists on the peculiar adaptation of the 
Magyar to the ancient metrical standard, and 
gives his own verses as evidence. He also trans- 
lated Virgil. A bitter controversy grew up be- 
tween him and Bacsanyi, which led to his Apul6- 
jus tukore, Apuleius's Mirror. It is a very erudite 
work, but he desisted from any farther attack on 
his adversary when he learned that Bacsanyi had 
been visited by misfortune. He wrote a free 
translation from Plautus, Az Ikerek (The Twins), 
in iambics, and died in 1812. His talents were 
considerable his learning more so ; but the 
scorn, bitterness, and self-esteem, which charac- 
terize his literary polemics, leave no favorable 
impression of his moral qualities. 

Far more amiable is the portrait ure of RE VAI 
one of the best poets of his day. He was born 
in 1749, and in the 16th year of his age obtained 
considerable notice by some admirable Latin 
translations. In 1778 he published a volume of 
Elegiac Poems.* In 1780, his oration on Maria 
Theresa's death obtained great popularity; and 
in 1784, he established his Magazine, Hirmondo 
(News-giver) at Poson. He endeavored, in 1784, 
to obtain the concurrence of Joseph the Second, in 

* A' Magyar alagyakuak elso konyvok. 


the formation of a Literary Society, but failed in 
the attempt. In 1790, the Diet reintroduced the 
Hungarian language into the elementary public 
schools, and established Magyar chairs in the uni- 
versity academies. A number of small societies 
have since grown up, and each in its little circle 
has co-operated for the common object. It was 
only by assisting such minor associations that 
Revai and others could forward their patriotic 
designs in favour of the language of their 
nation. Revai published many Latin poems. 
Notwithstanding his broken health, he, on being 
called to the professorship of Hungarian Litera- 
ture at Pest, devoted himself with unbounded 
and unbroken zeal to the topics of his chair. 
His large Hungarian Grammar appeared 1803-6. 
He died in 1807, leaving behind him many va- 
luable philological MSS. and translations from 
the Greek, Latin, and German. 

SZABO was a Transylvanian, who also belongs 
to the classical school. Some of his Epigrams 
are happy, and his works were deemed excellent 
for their classical correctness. He wrote on Ma- 
gyar prosody, and a description of rural life. 
The criticisms of Kacinczy have diminished the 
number of Szabo's admirers. 

RAD AY (G ED EON), the son of Pal, made some 


farther experiments in rhyme by introducing 
many of the stanzas of the southern nations of 
Europe. He exerted an influence greater than 
that of his writings in furthering the cultivation 
of the Magyar language, and pointing out to the 
young inquirers around him the pathway of taste 
and talent. He thus led forward Kazinczy and 
Dayka, two of the most accomplished and in- 
dustrious writers of their age. Raday had been 
educated in the University of Germany. He 
founded the excellent library of Peczel, and died 
in 1792. 

To BACSANYI'S history an interest, political as 
well as poetical, attaches. He was born in 1763, 
at Tapolcza, and first obtained great notice from 
his valuable contributions to the Magyar Museum 
from 1788 to 1792. He treated in them of poe- 
try, morals, and general literature. He began a 
translation of Ossian, which he has lately com- 
pleted. But his opinions made him at an early 
period the object of mistrust, and being asso- 
ciated with other enthusiasts in what was called 
the jacobin conspiracy of the Abbe* Martinovics, 
in 1794, he was conveyed as a state prisoner, 
first to Munkacs, and afterwards to Rufstein. 
He obtained his release in 1798, and took up his 
abode at Vienna, where, in 1799, he married the 


German poetess Gabriella Baumberg. Betrayed 
into hope by the superb display of Napoleon's 
power, and miscalculating the chances that the 
arms of the despot might serve the cause of li- 
berty, he translated into Magyar, in 1809, the 
French emperor's appeal to the Hungarian peo- 
ple. When peace was restored, he hastened to 
Paris for security, where he found employment 
in a public printing-office. When the Austrians 
entered Paris, in 1814, they seized him as a state 
prisoner, and conveyed him home, whence, after 
another imprisonment, he was banished to Linz, 
where he still lives, struggling with misfortune. 
His literary influence would have been great 
could he have pursued his career, but it has been 
often interrupted and broken by cruel political vi- 
sitations, which have flung him out of the sphere 
in which he was successfully labouring. In 1791 
he published the poems of Anyos; in 1821 an 
address to the learned of his country, A* Magyar 
Tudosokhoz; in 1824 he reprinted Faludi's poems; 
his own works he is now engaged in watching 
through the press, but coming from the solitude 
of his retreat, it is only the voice of one crying in 
the desert " Prepare." Bacsanyi's sufferings 
were shared by SZENTJOBI SzAB6 (Laszlo), whose 
poetical merits were also of a very high order. 


He was Bacsanyi's fellow-labourer in the Magyar 
Museum. His works were gathered together in 
1791, and published under the title of Koltemg- 
nyes Munkaji, (Poetical Works) ; and on occa- 
sion of the coronation of Francis I. appeared his 
drama in three acts, Mdtyds Kirdly vagi/ a y np 
szeretete jdmbor fejedelmek' jutalma (King Mat- 
thew a People's Love the Recompense of a 
good Prince. Buda, 1792). His lyrics want the 
polish of critical thought, but contain the germs 
of fine conceptions. 

DAYKA was overpraised as all poets are who 
die in their youth ; sympathy for their early loss 
is a basis on which biography often builds up 
a false reputation. Dayka has, however, much 
merit, though he studied apparently in the artifi- 
cial school of the French a school growing out 
of a poor and unpoetical language, requiring a 
machinery of frigid rules of construction to ele- 
vate it above ordinary prose, from which, in fact, 
little French poetry is distinguishable, except by 
the clinquant of the rhyme. Correctness and ele- 
gance cannot be denied to Dayka, and his Ana- 
creontic verses are airy and agreeable. He was 
the son of a laboring tailor, and his talents and 
good qualities having won the affections of two 
Cisterian monks of Eger, they gave him a gra- 



tuitous education. His existence was disturbed 
by many annoyances, and he died in his twenty- 
eighth year, when it was believed he had purified 
arid elevated his style. Kazinczy published his 
poems, (Pest, 1813,) and has devoted a preface 
to an interesting and touching account of a fa- 
vorite and friend. 

VERSEGHY'S Prosody is a great improvement 
on that of most of his predecessors. He, too, has 
written a Grammar of the Magyar, which, though 
less profound and critical than Revai's, is a very 
useful work. His poetry has not much that is 
original, but he made the best use of the powers 
he possessed, and elaborated his productions into 
correctness. The place of his birth was Szolnok; 
of his education, Eger. He became a member of 
the religious order of the Paulists, and when it was 
suppressed he entered the army during the Turk- 
ish campaign. Ill health compelled him to aban- 
don the military profession, and he became a fre- 
quent and a valuable contributor to the Magyar 
Museum. He wrote on Thorough Bass, being an 
excellent singer, and on many topics of history, 
theology, and ethics. But being involved in poli- 
tical discussions, he was proceeded against capi- 
tally, and his sentence commuted to a nine years' 
imprisonment, which ended in 1804. He pub- 


lished two humorous satires in the same year. 
His works make up nearly forty volumes. He 
took an active part against the Revayen school in 
defending what he deemed the purity of the Ma- 
gyar tongue. He might have enriched it, instead 
of endeavouring to close the door upon foreign 
contributions, for he was the master of nine lan- 
guages. Schedel says of him, " In his literary 
contests he had not acquired the art of yielding, 
was exceedingly irritable, and sometimes coarse. 
But in his domestic relations he was gentle, 
friendly, and generous, and in society amiable." 

Of the classical school, VIRAG is the most im- 
portant auxiliary. He always writes in full pos- 
session of his subject vigorous, clear, and strong. 
His odes might for their purity have belonged to 
the Augustan age. But they do not come home 
to us ; they are the representatives of something 
remote and afar ; they are of the past, unlinked 
to the present cold as antique marble sculpture, 
and as motionless too. Virag was a regular prie&t 
of the Paulist order. In 1781, he was made Pro- 
fessor at the Gymnasium of Szekes-Fejervar, and 
in 1799 published his Odes, which obtained for 
him the name of the Magyar Horace. His Fables 
(Buda, 1819] are excellent. His prose works 
are many and good. Among them his Pragmatic 


History of Hungary (Magyar szdzadok, Buda, 
1808 16) is entitled to distinction. Virag still 
lives at Buda, full of literary activity. 

CSOKONAI has contributed to literature both good 
and evil things. He is often slovenly, sometimes 
coarse, sometimes exalted. His Dorrotya has 
much of fine wit and sharp satire in it, but is 
often degraded by low vulgarity. He was badly 
trained, and vibrated, as it were, from scholastic 
trammels into an unrestrained freedom of style. 
Writing always and about all things, he disap- 
pointed the expectations he had created. Schedel 
says he had in him all the elements of a popular 
lyric poet. In his wiser and happier vein he is 
charming. He helped, however, to redeem Hun- 
garian poetry from the artificial coldness which 
had long frozen its genial spirit, and, with Ka- 
zinczi, Verseghy, and Dayka, to give it a genuine 
national character. Csokonai's birth-place was 
Debretzen. In his twentieth year he was chosen 
to fill the chair of Poetry, but was speedily dis- 
missed on account of his irregularities. The fol- 
lowing year (1796) he went to Poson (Presburg), 
where he published a poem on the then sitting 
Diet, which won him great praise. In 1797* he 
became enamored of the lady to whom man}' of 
his lyrics are addressed under the name of Lilla. 


She refused her hand; and he, in his gloom, 
abandoned the Professorship which Count Feste- 
tics had given him at Csurgo. He lost his health, 
and died in his thirty-first year. His reading was 
considerable, and spread over many oriental as 
well as European tongues. His history is a me- 
lancholy one of flightiness and folly. He lived, 
his epitaph says, somewhat slanderously towards 
his art, poetce more. After his disappointment he 
became indifferent to opinion, and produced a 
series of profligate writings, whose highest privi- 
lege will be oblivion. 

The present century dawned prosperously for 
Magyar literature. The first volume of ALEXAN- 
DER KISFALUDY'S Himfy was published in 1801. 
No book was ever known to produce such an im- 
pression in Hungary as was awakened by this 
volume ; nor was the success of the second part, 
which appeared in 1807, less than that of the 
first. He pursued his successful career with his 
Sagas (Regek) and his Gyula, winning " golden 
opinions," and becoming alike the companion of 
the learned and the light-hearted. His Himfy is 
a series of short descriptive lyrics, the first part 
celebrating an unsuccessful, the second a happy, 
love. The main topic is, however, relieved by 
much beautiful philosophy and salutary moraliz- 


ing. Between the 400 shorter Dalok or Songs, 
are introduced 28 Canzonets, somewhat in the 
Petrarchan style. There is throughout a mas- 
terly condensation of thought, without any em- 
barrassment of language. Kazinczy called these 
productions the Epigrams of Love. They have 
many novel forms of expression, some uncommon 
words ; but they approve themselves constantly 
to the mind. His Regek are the very images of 
Hungarian life. In his Dramas, whether histori- 
cal or domestic, he has been less successful ; the 
characters rather describe than develop them- 
selves. Kisfaludy was born of an ancient Hun- 
garian family at Siimeg ; educated at Gyor (Raab) 
and Poson ; entered the army in his twentieth 
year ; fought the Italian campaign, and was taken 
prisoner by the French in 1796. Visiting Avig- 
non, it seems as if the mantle of Petrarch had 
descended upon him, and that out of the fountain 
of Vaucluse he had drunk of the Italian Helicon. 
In 1800, he left military service and married the 
Lisa of his songs. They were published anony- 
mously, and he was for a time " the Great Un- 
known" of Hungary. His later lyrics have been 
all welcomed with enthusiasm. In 1809, he enlist- 
ed among the Hungarian insurgents, and wrote a 
history of the campaign. His abode is at Siimeg, 


where he was born, in a spot said to be one of 
romantic beauties. 

KAZINCZY'S active spirit has poured upon his 
country many streams of foreign literature. His 
prose is admirable. He had to fight a hard battle 
in favour of improvements which the Hungarian 
language demanded, in order to accommodate it- 
self to an improved civilization. The man who 
introduces one really useful word or expression 
into his native language, is entitled to great ap- 
plause. It has been by a series of benefactions 
of this sort that our English tongue has become 
what it is, and that it promises to go on gather- 
ing strength and riches with the progress of time. 
The foolish resistance to such melioration has 
left the French language in nakedness and po- 
verty, unable to communicate a thousand shades 
of thought and feeling which find representatives 
in the greater opulence of other idioms. The 
prejudices of what is called nationality a word 
the random use of which may to an unbounded 
extent impede good and encourage evil are easily 
awakened ; but K'azinczy has struggled success- 
fully against them and he has done well ; for 
the author who gives to the mind any new in- 
strument of power, who assists the development 
and the lucidness of ideas by finding appropriate 


expressions for them, plants the best seeds of 
knowledge. Kazinczy aroused a strong opposi- 
tion against him, as if he had polluted his mother 
tongue ; but that good sense which at last tri- 
umphs over narrow prejudices, has recognized 
him as a well-doer. He has translated much, 
and from many languages. His parents were 
Calvinists, and he was born at Er-Semlyen in 
1759. He pursued his studies with great activity 
and success at Sarospatak, and in his eighteenth 
year had published a geographical work. In 1786, 
he was placed at the head of the national schools 
of the Kassa district, extending over nearly a 
fourth part of Hungary. His literary history is 
one of continued labor and successful exertion. 
With Baroti and Bacsanyi, he produced the Ma- 
gyar Museum, and in 1790 he himself established 
the Orpheus, a monthly literary periodical. When 
the ancient crown of Hungary was deposited at 
Buda in 1790, Kazinczy was deputed with the 
congratulations of the Abauj district. With this 
event the awakening enthusiasm of the Magyars 
was connected. Hungarian dramas were repre- 
sented, Hungarian Anthologies printed, and the 
works of many a celebrated foreign poet first wore 
an Hungarian dress. The revival of Hungarian 
emotions was not agreeable to the court, and Ka- 


zinczy, like many of his literary friends, became 
obnoxious, and was visited by state prosecution, 
whose sentence was commuted by the king into 
seven years' imprisonment. He left his jail in 
1801, and married a Catholic lady, Sophia, the 
daughter of Count Torok. On the breaking out 
of the war with France, he was one of the twelve 
Deputies chosen to organize the insurrection 
against the enemy ; and in 1801, with Count 
Joseph Dezsdfi, was appointed to plan the monu- 
ment to those who had fallen at Gyor, which now 
ornaments Ujhely, in the neighbourhood of which 
Kazinczy dwells. A collection of his works on 
Belles Lettres, in nine volumes, has been publish- 
ed.* That part of his Erdetyi Levelek (Transyl- 
vanian Letters) which has been printed the result 
of a journey through that country is much va- 
lued. Hs name is, in a word, spread over the 
whole field of modern Magyar literature, and will 
be found as a contributor to every periodical of 
distinction which has appeared in his native 

Kis has acted silently, but remarkably, on the 
literature of Hungary, It can hardly be said that 
he surprises his reader, but he affects and pleases 

* Kaziuczy 'JMimkaji Szq> Literattira. Pest, 1811 16. 


him. His is a philosophical temperament, and 
his style is clear and bright. He has published 
much original poetry and many translations. No- 
thing can be farther removed from affectation 
than his writings, and his verses especially flow 
like a stream down a gentle declivity. He was 
born of poor parents at Szent-Andras, in Soprony. 
His mother taught him to read, his father to 
write. When he entered the Soprony Gymna- 
sium, a benevolent German Professor (Schwart- 
ner) took much notice of him, and greatly as- 
sisted the cultivation of his mind. In his twenty- 
first year, (1791,) accompanied by a school -fellow, 
he undertook a pedestrian tour through a great 
part of Hungary, for the purpose of making the 
personal acquaintance of the eminent writers of 
the time. He travelled into Germany, and fol- 
lowed the courses of some of the distinguished 
Professors of Gottingen and Jena j on his return 
to Hungary he was made a professor, and ele- 
vated to many distinguished offices in the career 
of education. He was one of the founders of the 
Magyar Society at Soprony for the cultivation of 
the poetical literature of Hungary. He obtained 
the prize which was offered in 1804, by an Hun- 
garian patriot, for the best essay on the cultiva- 
tion and extension of the Magyar tongue. In 


2, he was called to the ranks of nobility. He 
translated Lowth's Choice of Hercules from the 
English. His works are very numerous sixty 
volumes at least, independently of many contri- 
butions to periodicals. They consist of versions 
from the classics, school-books, and ethics, and 
poetry on many topics. 

Of BERZSENYI, opinions are various and some- 
times contrary. He has been admired for his 
originality by some, and attacked for his servility 
bv others. Ddbrentei, however, says of him in a 
letter to me, " Berzsenyi is truly a national poet, 
fiery, glowing, soft, and exalted. His language 
the purest Hungarian." I have heard him com- 
pared to a lark soaring and singing in the heavens. 
The thoughts, and sometimes the phrases, of the 
Latin and German classics may be traced in some 
of his works. Nothing can be more natural than 
the flow of his strains, more awakened and 
awakening than his sensibilities, more lively than 
his imagination. The Hungarians call him their 
national bard, as a special distinction. His com- 
positions are fervent and fiery, and so frequently 
breathe those warm and passionate appeals to the 
patriotic feelings of his countrymen which agitate 
their minds like an intellectual tempest. They 


speak of Berzsenyi with a wild enthusiasm. He 
has fanned and flattered the strongest of the Ma- 
gyar sensibilities has sung the ancient glories of 
the Hunnish race and, with deep pathos, has 
poured strains of plaintiveness over their present 
decay. Rumy says of him, that as a boy he was 
" non sine Dis animosus infans." It has been 
objected to him that his style is sometimes in- 
flated and degraded by provincialisms, but his 
severest critics are willing to allow that he has 
many distinguished merits. His place of birth 
was Hetye, and he became in early life the friend 
of Kis, and the correspondent of Kazinczy. In 
one of the assemblies of the different orders at 
Siimeg in 1812, Count Teleki presented our 
poet as the treasure of the Hungarian Parnassus. 
His works w 7 ere published in three volumes by 
Helmeczy, in 1813. Berzsenyi was one of those 
who were sharply attacked by the Mondolat, a 
satire on the Neologists, as they were called, or 
the introducers of novelties. His present abode 
is Mikla. 

HKLMECZY has ventured far in introducing new 
words and new combinations of words, particu- 
larly in his translations from Schiller and Tasso, 
in the original measures. Perhaps he is not al- 


ways happy in his experiments, but he has, at 
all events, added something to the riches of his 
native tongue. 

SZEMERE'S Sonnets are the best existing in the 
Hungarian.* He, too, has been a translator from 
other idioms, and has published a version of Kdr- 
ner's Zrinyi, a drama recommended to the Ma- 
gyars by its connexion with their history. Sze- 
mere was of an ancient and noble family ; his 
studies were pursued through many schools and 
colleges ; in his twenty-third year he became an 
advocate, and about ten years after was made 
Vice Fiscal of Pest. He has written many phi- 
lological papers, and taken an active part in the 
strife as to the improvements of the Magyar 
tongue. He published a collection of songs in 
1812,f and has been actively engaged with Kol- 
csey in the editorship of Life and Literature, 
Elet 6s Litteratura. His place of abode is 
usually either P^czel or Pest. 

In 1782, SZASZ was born in Dedrad-Szeplak, 
and educated in the College of Maros-Vasarhely. 
Patronized by Count Teleki, he visited Vienna 

* Tolteuyi has written, too, a great number of sonnets, but 
they are not very happily constructed. The sonnets of Bartfay 
are melodious. 

f Dalok azoknak, a' kik szeretnek. 


and Jena to be trained to the office of Librarian. 
After an absence of two years he returned, and 
died in his thirtieth year, in 1S12. His friend 
Ddbrentei published some of his poems in the 
Erd&yi Museum, with an affectionate and eulo- 
gistic notice (Pt. II. pp. 102116). 

DOBRENTEI has translated several of Shak- 
speare's plays, and his Magyar Macbeth was re- 
presented at Poson during the sittings of the 
Diet in 1825. His epic Kenytrmezei Diadal, 
Victory of Kenyermezd, a sort of Ossianic com- 
position, has been translated into German by 
Count Mailath. There is a charming popular 
tone about some of his productions, while others 
give evidence of a high and cultivated taste. His 
origin is noble his birth-place Hogyesz. His 
early productions obtained for him the favor of 
the Soprony Literary Society, whose transactions 
he edited in 1804. After travel in foreign lands, 
he became the preceptor of the young Count 
Gyulai, of Transylvania. He again left his coun- 
try for Italy in 1814, and on his return established 
the E/rd&yi Museum at Kolosvar, one of the 
most valuable contributions to Magyar literature. 
Men of every sect united to assist this interesting 

undertaking, and its pages will be found orna- 
mented with the works of Catholics and Calvin- 


ists, Lutherans, and Unitarians. Ever labouring 
for the advance of his country's literature, he laid 
the foundations of a society of Belles Lettres on 
an extended scale, which has been sanctioned and 
recommended by many of the authorities, but 
has not yet obtained the patronage of the King. 
In 1825, he was made commissary of the Buda 
district, and there is his place of abode. He is 
one of the most zealous, one of the most enlight- 

* o 

ened and fascinating of the Magyar writers. He 
is the author of the article in the Leipzig Conver- 
sations Lexicon on the literature of his country, 
and his name will be found associated with ho- 
nourable titles to distinction and affection over 
the whole field of Magyar intelligence. 

The odium theologicum, which may be trans- 
lated malevolence in its worst shape, sometimes 
breaks very offensively through the writings of 
Hungarian divines. Yet I have heard from Do- 
brentei a story so honourable to all concerned, 
that I record it here with exceeding satisfaction. 
Dobrentei is a Protestant, and one who, to my 
knowledge, has made sacrifices to his religious 
convictions. In 1822, when he returned from 
Transylvania, he visited, in Tet, the well-known 
Catholic Priest, Horvat Endre, who lived in 
his Pdzmdndi Magdny, (Pazmandian Solitude,) 


amidst the vineyards on the sides of the moun- 
tain, where the ancient Benedictine convent 
stands. There were present several Catholics, 
and among them Giizmics Izidor, a Benedictine 
monk, the translator of Theocritus into Magyar 
Hexameters, and Szalai Imre, the grammarian, 
now Professor at Pest. A little festival wel- 
comed the poet. It was held in the open air, 
under a large apple-tree. Horvat rose, and thus 
addressed the part}' : "Friends, Dobrentei is here, 
the Editor of the Erdelyi Museum. I take you 
all to witness, that, in memory of this day, I 
name this noble apple-tree the Gabor F&ja" (Ga- 
briel's Tree). The word was re-echoed by all 
the company, they filled their glasses with Hun- 
garian wine, and baptized the Gabor Faja. Guz- 
mics wrote a distich, which was suspended on 
the tree, which has been since an object of con- 
siderable attraction. 

I owe much to Dobrentei, far more than my 
thanks can repay. 

BUCZY is a native of Kolosvar his poetry is of 
the classic character, which has grown out of his 
great devotion to the writers of Greece and Rome. 
He was professor of rhetoric at Nagy Szeben 
(Hermanstadt), but ill health compelled him to 
abandon his chair, and to retire for some years to 


private life. On his recovery he was appointed to 
the professorship of moral philosophy at Karoly- 
Fejervar (Karlsburg), which occupies him at this 
hour. Most of his poems are contributions to the 
Erdelyi Museum. 

TOTH has more of erudition than of poetical ge- 
nius, and his erudition is visible in the classical 
character of his writings. His father was a 
preacher of the Reformed Church at Kis-Tokaj, 
and the young Toth made such progress in his 
early studies of Latin and Greek, as to excite the 
admiration of his teachers. In 1814 he came to 
Pest in order to fit himself for the practice of me- 
dicine. Two years afterwards he published his 
first volume of poems; and in 1818, his Greek 
verses with their Hungarian translations. They 
were favourably received and honorably noticed. 
In 1816 he joined the Catholic church; but he 
died of cholera, some have suspected of poison, in 
1820. He was the first to introduce the Pindaric 
Ode into the Magyar literature. His unpub- 
lished writings were more numerous than his 
published ones, and great hopes were indulged of 
the services he might render by them to the 
healing art. 

While the paper is yet wet which bears these 
translations from VITKOVICS, I receive the intel- 


ligence that this interesting poet has ceased to 
be. He died on the 9th of September, 1829. He 
was a Servian by birth, and wrote his native and 
his adopted language with equal purity.. His 
tones are easy, graceful, and airy, and he intro- 
duced into Hungary those strains of popular song 
which are so diffused among the Slavonian na- 
tions. Eger (Eylau) was his birth-place, and 
there was he educated. Having been chastised 
as a boy for the offence of verse- making, he clung 
to the art the more closely when he grew to be a 
man. Professor Papay gave him the first in- 
structions as to the composition of Magyar poe- 
try. His Address to Horvat, and more especially 
his Fables and Poems, (Mes^ji es versei : Pest, 
1817,) vvere welcomed with high praise. His 
writings are scattered over the fugitive Hunga- 
rian papers of the present century. 

FAY is a sharp and sparkling writer, from whose 
pen mirth and laughter are constantly gushing 
forth. He was born in 1786, at Kohany, and 
was just that eager and sprightly youth who 
might be expected to become the lively and witty 
man. Having studied at Sarospatak and Poson, 
he became a judge in the Pest district, where he 
dwells. In 1807 he published a collection of his 
fables and poems (JBokr&a), of which many were 


written before he had reached his fifteenth year. 
Another collection, Fris Bokr^ta (Fresh Plumes), 
appeared in 1818; and a third, consisting of Fables 
and Aphorisms, in 1820. These are excellent, 
they are humorous and wise. In 1324 appeared 
other Tales and a Prose Comedy, entitled Ked- 
vesapongdsok (Pleasure Vibrations). Fay is one 
of the most popular of the Hungarian writers. 

In 1814, HORVAT Andreas published his Zircz 
Emlekezete Remembrance of Zircz, in hexa- 
meters. The paucity of events is relieved by 
many philosophical musings, and the language 
and versification correct and easy. The date of 
Horvat's birth is 1778. In 1798 he entered the 
Cistercian order of Monks. In 1806 he was ap- 
pointed to a Cure in Tet, his present abode. At 
the request of many of his admirers he under- 
took a National Epic to celebrate the founder 
of the Hungarian Kingdom, Arpad, which is not 
yet completed, though he has published speci- 
mens in some of the periodicals, especially the 
Aurora, where also may be found many other 
productions of his pen. 

The songs of SZENTMIKLOSSY ALOYS are agree- 
able, and his Epigrams pointed. He was the son 
of a state councillor, who paid great attention to 
his education, and on the completion of his stu- 


dies at Eger, in his twenty-sixth year, he was 
made an Assessor at Borsod. In his early wri- 
tings he appears to have made Faludi and Anyos 
his models; but Kazinczy obtained afterwards 
great influence on his mind. The presence of a 
number of French officers, prisoners of war, at 
Eger, induced him to attend particularly to the 
literature of their country. Szentmiklossy's wri- 
tings have not, I believe, been collected into 
volumes, but are spread through the different 
periodicals of Hungary. 

KOLCSEY introduced the Ballad into the Hun- 
garian literature. His elegiac powers are great. 
His remarks on his contemporaries have been 
salutary, though sometimes severe. He was the 
Editor of Elet es Litter atura (Life and Litera- 
ture), a periodical of high reputation. His own 
writings are warm and vigorous. Born at Szo 
Demeter, in Transylvania, he studied at Debre- 
czen, obtained honor as a classical scholar, and 
mastered the literature of France and Germany. 
In his nineteenth year he became a Jurat at Pest, 
and there formed that intimate alliance with Hor- 
vat, Vitkovics, and Szemere, which afterwards 
exercised so important an influence on Magyar 
criticism. His first productions appeared in the 
DdmdK Kalenddrioma (Ladies' Calendar), and the 


Transylvanian Museum. On a visit paid his 
friend Szemere, he wrote the attack on Mondolat, 
which was published without his cognizance in 
1815. His criticisms on Csokonai, Kis, and Ber- 
zsenyi, won him many enemies, and made him 
the object of sharp censure. These criticisms 
appeared in the Tudomdnyos Gyujtemeny (Lite- 
rary Collection), and the intention of going over 
the whole course of Hungarian literature in the 
same spirit was abandoned. His critical produc- 
tions are vigorous, eloquent, and useful. His 
translation of Homer, if it can be judged of by 
the specimens published, is very masterly. He 
inhabits Cseke (Schwiike). It is earnestly to be 
desired that his vigorous, original, and for the 
most part judicious, criticisms, should be con- 

Though so much of KISFALUDY'S (KAROLY) life 
was passed far away from Hungary, a more cor- 
rect painter of Hungarian manners has never ap- 
peared. His Dramas are rich in fancy and re- 
markable for their truth and tact. He has far 
outstripped the expectations excited by his 
earlier productions. He has won for himself 
a dramatic, almost equal to his brother's lyric, 
fame. In 1819 and 1820 his productions first 
appeared on the stage, and followed one another 


with great rapidity, each being welcomed with 
new enthusiasm. He has taken his materials, 
for the most part, from the interesting events of 
Magyar history, and has presented admirable 
pictures in which truth has furnished all their 
bright lights and dark shadows. He deserves a 
more special attention, and a more careful and 
detailed criticism, than can be found room for 
here ; but on some future occasion, I hope, with 
the co-operation of a valuable friend, to introduce 
some of his admirable works in their entirety to 
English readers. His Aurora cannot be men- 
tioned without praise. For some years it has 
been the receptacle of the gems of modern Ma- 
gyar poetry. It was here that Kolcsey first be- 
came known. 

Charles Kisfaludy is the younger brother of 
Alexander, and was born at Tet, on the 19th of 
March, 1790. In his fifteenth year he entered 
the army, was engaged in the campaign of Italy 
in 1805, and that of Germany in 1809. It is said 
that when he left his paternal home he had never 
seen any other poetry than his brother's Himfy. 
This, however, sufficed to enkindle the embers of 
his imagination, and in Italy he wrote many 
poems, which have seen the light at different 
times, and in various ways. The first of his 


Dramas acted was the Tartars (Tatdrok). It 
produced such a tempest of applause, that (says 
Schedel) " the poet could hardly save himself 
from the rush of young people, who, with loud 
shouts of joy, insisted on producing him on the 
stage. 3 ' It was again and again represented with 
boisterous applause. His second play, Zdcs, was 
prohibited, his third, //&#, was scarcely less for- 
tunate than the first. In the following year he 
wrote his Stibor, a Drama, in four acts, and, on 
a notice of only ten days, his Sz&si, and, in a 
yet less period, Kemeny Simon. A number of 
dramatic pieces followed these, and in 1S20, he 
published an Apotheosis of Pannonics. His in- 
timacy with Helmeczy led him to a more thorough- 
ly philosophical examination of the character of 
the Hungarian language, and to project the esta- 
blishment of a school of art, for the furtherance 
of a pure poetical taste. The Aurora dawned out 
of this conception, and it is sprinkled over with 
various works, in almost every class of com- 

* * 

position. In many of these Kisfaludy adopted 
pseudonymes, some of which became almost as 
famous as his own. 

BAJZA/S poetry has a melancholy expression 
about it, and does not always appear to wear a 
natural garb of gloom. Szii'csi was his birth- 


place; his parents were noble; and in the seventh 
year of his age (in 1811), he was sent to study 
at Gyongyos ; from thence he went to Pest, and 
afterwards to Poson. In IS 25, he was chosen 
Secretary to the representatives to the diet of 
the Heves district., and remained two years in 
the capital. His writings are principally in the 
Aurora ; one of them, a Bortfnek, or Wine Song, 
was enthusiastically admired. 

CZUCZOR'S Augshurgiutkozet, (Battle of Augs- 
burg, A. D. 910,) is an epic in four cantos. The 
subject is too remote, and too little assisted by 
historical facts, to excite much interest. It is an 
energetic composition, but swelling at times into 
an almost bombastic grandiosity. His Aradi 
gijules (Diet of Arad, A. D. 1136,) in five cantos, 
is happier in every respect. The actors are fine 
and veracious portraits, the events both touching 
and important. Less varied, less romantic than 
Vorosmarty, he has more simplicity and unity 
in his story, and more of individuality in his 
actors. He was born at Andod in 1800, became 
a Benedictine in 1S17; the following year he at- 
tended a course of philosophy at Gyor. In 18-24, 
he became Latin Professor, and, in 1826, Pro- 
fessor of Rhetoric there, and he still fills the 


VOROSMARTY entered on dangerous ground when 
he determined to try his fortune as an epic poet. 
He had several living rivals ; among them Czuczor 
and Horvat, who had published some specimens 
of his Arpad. But Vorosmarty was not a man 
of an every- day stamp. His rich and powerful 
fancy has always been sufficient to his highest 
intellectual conceptions. Not that he has formed 
on all occasions a correct estimate of his own 
powers. His mind is not fitted for dramatic 
groupings. He is a master of description, not of 
action. No fault can be found with the poetry 
of his dramas -, but unless the doings of the stage 
are as interesting as the sayings, there is no re- 
demption for the work. Vorosmarty's dramas 
are failures. As an epic poet, however, Voros- 
marty is really great.* Schedel speaks of the in- 
exhaustible opulence of Vorosmarty's imagina- 
tion, the infinite versatility of its creations, the 
marvellously varied shades of thought and feel- 
ing for which he has found expression, and espe- 
cially of the felicitous sketches and personifica- 
tions of woman which decorate his pages. His 
Hexameters are beautiful, and truly national. In 

* Szkely had published a short Transylvaniau Epic in 1823 7 
The Seklers, ahd soon afterwards Mohdcs. 


the field of poetry, it is of these epics that the 
Hungarians feel most proud, and desire that these 
should be deemed the representatives of their po- 
etical cultivation. 

Vorosmarty (Mihaly) was born on the 1st of 
December, 1800, at Nyek, of noble Catholic pa- 
rents. In 1816, he was a student at Pest. In 
this year his father died, and he undertook the 
office of tutor, which he filled for nine years. In 
18*24, he became an Advocate, and has ever since 
that period made Pest his place of abode, study- 
ing the writings and benefiting by intercourse 
with the distinguished men of his time. He vi- 
sited Transylvania with his pupil in 1820-3, and 
there began to study Shakspeare, his mind grow- 
ing stronger and stronger by the communion 
with noble spirits of other ages. He wrote se- 
veral dramas, but did not receive the applause 
which was to welcome his productions till his 
Zalan appeared in 18*25, which was received with 
marks of uncommon delight. On Kisfaludy's 
recommendation, he engaged in celebrating the 
conquest of King Salomon over the Rumanians 
a popular and successful enterprise. Other pieces 
followed, both historical and critical ; and in- 
vested now with the Editorship of the Tudomd- 


nyos Gyujttfmeny, he is one of the most influen- 
tial, as undoubtedly one of the most distinguished, 
of the literary men of his country. 

The lyrics of SZENVEY are more remarkable for 
their form, than their correctness of language. 
He is a preceptor at Maglod, and was born in 
1798. The greater part of his manhood was 
passed in the neighbourhood of Visegrad, e: the 
paradise of Hungary, in the midst of those ruins 
which make the memory of the past so beautiful, 
living a life of enthusiasm and of song."* He 
has written seven tragedies, and many ballads. 

I have thus gone through the list of those Ma- 
gyar authors who seem more particularly entitled 
to notice. I trust in this good work I am the 
forerunner of wiser and more successful men. 

That the Magyar language and literature will 
receive greater attention from foreigners, and 
that the interest excited elsewhere will act upon 
the better and brighter part of Hungarian am- 
bition is certain. I see without jealousy the ar- 
dent national feeling of the Magyars, and feel that 
a nationality founded upon knowledge, and repre- 
senting a spirit of freedom and independence, is 
itself a virtue, and the parent of many virtues. 

* Schcdel. 


And witnessing the anxiety and the interest which 
these imperfect labors of mine have awakened 
among the Magyars, I could not but derive encou- 
ragement to continue them. They who have pa- 
tronized the daring, as well as they who have 
experienced the difficulties, will find indulgence 
for me. 

It may be deemed that originality is wanting 
in these compositions. But it should not be for- 
gotten that something of originality is lost by the 
transfusion of any thought into a different idiom ; 
that an English verse of necessity becomes in 
some degree English. There are other causes, 
too, which act upon Magyar literature. 

A people so closely connected with Austria as 
are the inhabitants of Hungary, and whose learn- 
ed men almost without exception speak and write 
the German tongue, do undoubtedly, though 
sometimes almost imperceptibly, adopt the cha- 
racter of a literature with which they are so fami- 
liar. This familiarity, if it sometimes trench on 
their nationality, does at the same time keep a 
high standard ever present to their minds, and 
leads to comparisons and contrasts which are on 
the whole favorable to the exercise of the intel- 
lectual powers. A German critic* has denied to 

* See Wiener Zahrbiiclier for 1829, No. xlv. 


the Magyars a poetical temperament. He says 
the national tone is noble, generous, gallant, sus- 
ceptible, good-natured, loving, easily won, sharp- 
witted, and imaginative. Now, are not these 
elements enough for the creation of poets and 
poetry ? And how can a nation be deemed unpo- 
etical which can offer to the world such a roll of 
poets as Hungary presents ? 

Of the popular poetry of the Magyars, little 
can be referred to a high antiquity. A fragment 
of an ancient poem is still sung by Hungarian 
children, thus : 

Lengyel Laszlo jo kiralyunk 
Az is nekiink -itteusegunk.* 

Nothing, however, but these two lines remain. 
The martial songs of their warlike ancestors have 
not been saved out of the oblivion of old time. 
Of the historical songs none are earlier than those 
of the wars of the last Hungarian revolution. Of 
the oral stories (Mesek or TLegek) of the Magyars, 
I shall translate Mailath's interesting descrip- 
tion : 

"The Magyar story-tellers are one of the many 
evidences of the oriental origin of the people. 
Like the Night- fablers of Arabia, they go on by 

* Laszlo the Pole the good king he 
He also is our enemy. 


the hour aye, by the night long without wea- 
rying their hearers. These are for the most part 
to be found among soldiers and peasants. The 
stories which in other lands are preserved only 
in work-rooms and nurseries to our days, are 
narrated in Hungary in the porch, by watch and 
shepherd fires, and amidst the night labors of the 
field. The character of the Magyar tale is wholly 
unlike that of southern lands. The hero is gene- 
rally a student, a soldier, or a king's son; his 
companion, a magic horse called Tatos, who is 
his counsellor and saviour. His enemy is often 
a dragon with six, nine, or twelve heads, and the 
hero must undergo three ordeals ; and this num- 
ber is the ruling one throughout the story. There 
is a sharpness and oddity about the conception, 
and an original development of the plot. The 
scenery, and the deeds of the principal actors, 
shew that the stories emanate from a people who 
lived in elevated places. The narrator sometimes 
unites two or three stories in one sometimes 
divides one into many elaborates or changes it 
according to his own caprice or the demands of 
his audience. It has happened that many tales 
of foreign origin have been introduced, which 
have been all nationalized by time. T remember 
to have heard a celebrated story- telling woman in 


the Abaujvar district, narrate one of Gozzi's best 
tales ; and the well-known and foreign ' Swan 
Maiden ' is current all over Hungary. The na- 
tional may be immediately distinguished from the 
exotic." * 

Of the Lyrics of the nation, the collection I 
have translated will serve to give a fair idea. To 
advocate their merits as literary compositions is 
no part of my task. I have given nearly the whole 
that have reached me, in order to shew what are 
the Songs of the Magyar people. Hungarian 
towns and villages, and rivers and plains, and 
hills and valleys, have been painted and described 
by many. Here are some of the thoughts of those 
who dwell there. The dresses of Hungary and 
Transylvania decorate many books, and are the 
subject of many pictures. Here are some of the 
adornings of the inward man here is something 
of the costume of mind. 

The Ecclesiastical History of a country is un- 
doubtedly closely connected with its Literature ; 
but I have been compelled to avoid entering on 
so wide and interesting a field. Those who wish 
to study this part of the subject may consult 

Bartholomaedes Comeutario de Bohemis Kis-Henthensibus. 
Edit. 2. POSOIJ, 1796, 4to. 

* Magyarische Sageu und Maahrchcn. Bruun, 1825. 



Historia Diplomatica de statu Religiouis Evangel : in Hungaria. 

1710, fol. 
Lainpe (Paul Ember) Historia Ecclesise Reformats in Hungaria 

et Transylvania. Poolsum, 1728, 4to. 
Memorabilia Augustanae Confessionis in Huugaria. Ed. Joan. 

Roboni. Poson, 1792. (An admirable book.) 
Novi ecclesiastic! et scholastic! Annales Evangelicorum Aug. et 

Hel. Conf. in Ditionibus Domus Aust. Herid. Ed. Sam. Am- 

brosius Shemnicii, 1793, 4to. 
Protestans Ekklesiak Historiuja Magyar es Erdely Orszagbann. 

Keszitette s' kiadta. Toth Ferentz, 8 Komaron, 1808. 
J. S. Klein's Nachrichten von den Lebensumstsenden evangelis- 

cher Predeger in Ungaria. 3 vols. Leipzig, 1789. 
Kurze Gescbichte der Evangeliscben Lutherischen Kirche in Un- 

garn von Anfang der Reformation bis auf Leopold II. Got- 

tingen, 1794. 

And the historians of Hungary, such as Von Engel, Fessler, 
Katoua (40 volumes), Budai, Palma, and others. 

SCHEDEL (under the name of Toldy Ferencz) has 
done acceptable service to the Magyar literature 
by his well -selected Anthology, Handbuch der 
Ungrischen Poesie,* which is in itself a little, 
agreeable Magyar library of poetry. His coad- 
jutor in this excellent labor is George Stettner, 
who adopts the pseudonyme of Fenyery Julius. 
It contains not only a series of well- selected spe- 
cimens, but the most important facts in the bio- 
graphy of the principal poets of Hungary. On 
this I have ventured to draw largely. It has fur- 

* In two volumes 8vo. Pest and Vienna, 1828. 


nished me with the greater part of my materials. 
And scarcely less am I indebted to Count Mai- 
lath's Magyarische Gedichte.* Without the assist- 
ance of these valuable writers I could not have 
effected a labor, of whose incompleteness and 
imperfections no individual can be more sensible 
than myself. But to do something, though feebly 
and unsatisfactorily, where nothing has been done 
before to bring some mementos, though few and 
small, from an undescribed country to introduce 
a little knowledge, in the place of much ignorance 
may haply be a not unworthy service. Criti- 
cism will estimate the difficulties which surround 
" the stranger in a strange land," and will deal 
out an indulgent award. 

* Iu one volume 12mo. Stuttgart and Tubingen, 1825. 


- ' ., 

/ . 

, 3 

' ' , 




J j 

- . - 



Ex ungue leoneni. 


' '. ' ' " 




Emlekezzunk regiekrol, 
A x Szitlyiabol kijottekrol 
Magyaroktiak eleikrol, 
'Es azoknak vite'zsegekrol.* 

REMEMBER we our sires of old, 
Their flight from the Scythian land ; 
The patriarchs of the Magyars, 
And the valor of their band ! 

Forth from the Scythian land they came, 
This better land to see ; 
By Isten f led, they onwards sped 
Adown to Erdely.^ 

* Respecting the date of this poem there arc many different 
opinions. Revai quotes it as one of the national ballads sung at 
the public festivals of the Magyars, attributing it to the twelfth 
century as its earliest date ; but it is generally supposed to be a 
composition of the fourteenth century. The three last stanzas 
were first published by Schedel in his collection. The rhymes are 
very irregular, and some of the verses not very intelligible ; but 
there is much historical interest in the production, which Grubcr 
has translated into German. 

f Isten, God. J Transylvania. 



. ' 

And glorious were their doings then : 
Seven bands composed the host ; 
Seven valiant chieftains led the men, 
And each a Far* couM boast, 

In their communion all was .onion, 
And valor in the fray ; 


No thought of fear was ever there, 
But safety kept the sway. 

They conquered long like Samson strong, 
All foemen they subdued; 
With lion-hearts overwhelming all 
A fearful multitude. 

Of all the band, the Magyars' pride 
Was the renowned Arpad ; 
He was the highest, noblest chief, 
And greatest riches had. 

And soon they found, while wandering round, 
The Duna'sf waters clear ; 
In beauteous road those waters flow'd 
No clearer waters were. 

They hurried then a messenger, 
The Duna's stream to track ; 
And, did its name deserve its fame, 
The borders to attack. 

* Var, a castle, a fortified elevation a word which is found 
in many oriental tongues. 
t The Danube. 




The messenger pursued the stream, 
The banks, the fields, the flood ; 
He drank of Dual's waier there, 
And swore that it .was good. 

A Lcncjyel* Lord was ruler then, 
Of all the land the Lord ; 
Veszprem his court but over all 
Was spread a Neimt-f horde. 

The messenger to Veszprem came, 
The Polish Count to see ; 
And bovv'd his head in reverence, 
And thus spoke cunningly : 

" I came to see thy land and thee, 
And, Herczeg,^. this the cause 
That I resort to Veszprem's court : 
To learn thy people's laws.'* 

This pleased the Count, and nobly he 
The Magyar entertain'd ; 
And much he saw of Lord and law, 
And much instruction gain'd. 

An empty flask he dar'd to ask, 
Where Duna's waters pass ; 
The flask he filled, some earth he took, 
And pluck'd a little grass. 

* A Pole. f Gorman. J Duke. 


And hastened back to Erdely, 
And sought the chief, Arpfid ; 
And much joyed he, the things to see, 
The faithful Magyar had. 

He called together all the chiefs, 
He shewed the water clear, 
The bit of earth, the blades of grass, 
And held a council there. 

And then decreed, a snow-while steed 
The Magyar should convey ; 
With golden bit, and saddle rich, 
And thus be charged to say : 

" The men who out of Scythia came, 
Have sent this steed to thee ; 
And from thy grace, they ask a place 
To settle quietly." 

The Count saw nought of what was thought 
By those the steed who sent ; 
And for the love of snow-white steed, 
His land was from him rent. 

" Go, messenger," he said ; " declare" 

His folly went so far 

" I give whatever lands they ask, 

To the brave Magyar." 


The messengers delighted heard ; 
Their bosoms fill'd with glee, 
They said, " Farewell !" and went to tell 
Their tale in Erdely. 

They made a call on heroes all, 
And straight a council held ; 
And summoned every man to meet 
The Herczeg in the field, 

And thrice on Isten's name they called., 
The Deus of their prayer ; 
And then the Godhead's title gave 
To Szamos' city there.* 

And yet we recollect the day, 
And in all bargains we 
Still loudly " Deus ! Deus !" say, 
In that time's memory. 

And when the bands were ready all, 
They order'd heralds three ; 
The Polish Lord, with this bold word, 
To visit speedily : 

* Istent ok ott imadauak 
Haromszor Deust kialtanak ; 
Arrol neveztk ott a' varost, 
Szamos' menteben, a' nemos Dcusnek. 


" Remember, Herczeg ! what tbou dost 
To leave the land prepare ; 
Which thou hast sold to Magyars bold 
The Magyars hasten here." 

The heralds sought the Polish Count, 
And bent them low and meek ; 
Yet free from fright, they spoke outright, 
As Arpad bade them speak. 

" For snow-white steed thou gav'st the land ; 
For golden bit, the grass ; 
For the rich saddle, Duna's stream 
Now bring the deed to pass." 

The Herczeg laugh'd at first, nor cared 
For what the heralds brought j 
But soon his rage overcame his mirth, 
And thus he spoke his thought : 

" 'Twere better to have slain the steed, 
Than sport such dangerous wit ; 
The saddle hide 'neath Duna's stream 
Beneath the grass, the bit." 

The heralds to the Herczeg said, 
" Your Highness need not storm ; 
The bargain made with Magyar men. 
Your Highness must perform. 


ts \\r e give not milk-white steed to hounds, 

To fish, no saddles gay ; 

To reapers give no golden bits - 

We know not what they'd say." 

And so the heralds hasten back ; 
While, fill'd with dread alarms, 
Retreating wide to Duna's side, 
The Count his army anus. 

At Kelemfold, Arpad the bold 
O'er Duna's waters goes ; 
At Cseke's land his forces mann'd 
In Tetcm were the foes. 

The Magyar throng in Erd was strong, 
And on Szaszhalom's plain : 
In those proud wars, the Magyars, 
By God upheld, their foemen quell'd, 
And mighty was their gain. 

His brave-ones dead, the Herczeg fled 
Alone he fled alone : 
The Magyar ranks reach'd Duna's banks 
The Polish Count was gone. 

Alone he ran, poor flying man ! 
What could he do but leap 
To save himself in Duna's stream, 
And hide him in the deep ? 


Arpfid look'd round with joy to see 
His conquests fair and far ; 
And more while from a mountain's top 
He look'd on Fejervar.* 

The kingdom thus was won by us. 
And Magyar-orszag f hight ; 
From Nemet men we won it then, 
And still 'tis ours by right. 

[Several stanzas are wanting here. It concludes thus :] 

Of those who gain'd the Magyar land, 
A chief as bold as any, 
Was Buda, who when Arpad died, 
Was Magyar's Kapitany.* 

He rear'd his throne by Buna's banks, 
Near Pesth along the hill ; 
And Buda's city, fair and rich, 
Preserves his memory still. 

* Szekes FejeVvur, literally chair of the white castle. Teut. 


f Magyar-orszag, Hungary i.e. the land of the Magyars. 
I Chieftain. 

(10 ) 


A. D. 1571. 

Jol tcszcd barutom, ha naeghazasodol. 




I HAVE an interesting tale to tell you, 

Such as you never heard. List ! for 'twill charm you; 

'Tis of the Turkish Emperor's lovely daughter. 

Two youthful heroes were of old made prisoners, 

Sent to Constantinople to the Emperor, 

And by the Turkish Emperor flung in prison. 

The prison was adjacent to the palace ; 
The heroes' names were, Szilagy Mihaly 
The one Hajmasi Laszlo was the other. 

Szilagyi, looking through the prison trellice, 
('Twas Whitsun day,) play'd an harmonious ditty 
On his guitar 'twas sweet, yet melancholy : 

And spake, 'midst deepest sighs "With father, mother, 
And with mine own dear sister, this day twelvemonth, 
This very day, I was so very happy !" 


The Emperor's daughter, standing near the window, 
Heard him look'd in and soon was moved to pity ; 
Besides, Szilagyi's form had pleased the maiden. 

And suddenly she sought the prison's portal, 
And pour'd sweet comfort on Szilagyi's bosom, 
And gently, sweetly, held this flattering language : 

" Young hero ! if upon thy knightly honor 
Thou swear to bring me to the Magyar country, 
And swear too (should I prosper) to espouse me 

" 1 shall be satisfied and I will free thee ; 

Yes ! I will free thee from thy prison's darkness : 

So swear me by thy faith and by thine honor !" 

And soon Szilagyi answered " Free me, maiden ! 
And I will wed thee by my faith and honor 
I swear to wed thee, thou imperial daughter !" 

And so the maiden won the prison keeper ; 
Aroused at midnight both the sleeping heroes, 
And led them forth to the imperial stables : 

Gave each a sharpened sword in golden scabbard ; 
They kill'd the stable-keepers and attendants, 
And the three fleetest horses swiftly saddled. 

The morning brought the tidings to the Emperor 
The prisoners were out-broken from the prison 
The boys, the keepers of the stables, murder'd. 


They stopp'd the heroes at the gate of customs, 

Ask'd them where speeding. " Out to Nagy-Szombat,* 

Among the wolves with Isten's holy favor." f 

Five of his choicest chiefs the Emperor summon'd, 
And thus commanded them : " Pursue the flying 
Capture them and produce them in my presence." 

And the five chieftains hasten'd to the borders, 

Bidding the guards arrest the flying heroes, 

And bear them swiftly to the Emperor's presence. 

They fell upon the heroes at the border 
Strove to arrest them but they fought so bravely, 
They forced their \vay, and passed in safety onward. 

The chieftains heard it, and pursued the flying 
Overtook them and there was a bloody combat : 
The chieftains fell it was the will of Isten ! 

The heroes sent the maid for her protection, 
What time the battle lasted, to an island, 
An island not remote. The battle ended, 

The heroes sought again the hidden maiden, 
And then Szilagyi heard a voice of wailing 
Szilagyi saw the maiden sorely troubled. 

* Tyman (Genmuiice). 

t The meaning (says Schedel) is, " We go to Tyman to join 
the Turkish troops, who are terrible to the enemy (the Hunga- 
rians) as wolves to sheep." 


Uttering despairing tones of lamentation, 
" Merciful Istcn ! I have left my dwelling : 
What will befal me in this dreary desert ? 

" O miserable fortune ! But my fortune 

Is far less grievous than those youthful heroes', 

Who fell beneath the sword-strokes of the foe man. 

" For jthem, I'll haste to death for them, I'll make me 

A burial-bed upon the gloomy desert : 

God ! let the wolves and wild fowl be my mourners. 

" Into God's hand I now my soul deliver." 

Szilagyi hasten'd thither and the maiden 

Smiled joyous while he led her forth. They journey 'd 

Towards the Magyar land ; they reach'd the borders ; 

And then Hajmasi said to his companion, 

" Let's strive who shall possess the lovely maiden." 

But swift Szilagyi turn'd upon Hajmasi : 

*' Nay, at thy peril ; thou art wed already 

To a fair bride : I'm pledged unto the maiden." 

Then cried the imperial daughter to the heroes, 
" Nay ! not for me shall hero blood be wasted : 
Fling me upon the sword not your own bosoms." * 

* " Hi'uiyjatok inkitbb engem szablyara, mint ezt nriveljetek." 
This is an Hungarian idiom for " Kill me, not yourselves." 


Hajmasi still persisted, and their weapons, 
Unsheathed, were swiftly drawn upon each other ; 
And sorely, sorely was Hajmasi wounded. 

Then spoke the wounded man to his companion, 
" Forgive me, friend ! for I am well rewarded : 
Well recompensed is he who breaks his duty. 

" I had a gentle wife and two fair children 

The thought o'erwhelms me I am justly pumsird : 

Brother in arms! farewell and forgive me !" 

So each bestow'd on each a friendly greeting ; 
Szilagyi took the maiden to his dwelling, 
And made a bride of that imperial maiden. 

[This Ballad has been just published by Schedel. He has done 
me the honor of dedicating the volume which contains it, to me, 
in terms far too flattering for any deserts of mine. There is a 
concluding stanza which says that the Ballad was taken from an 
old History, and written in 1571. Schedel thinks it not impro- 
bable that the Michael Szilagyi of the Poem was afterwards the 
Governor of Hungary, and the uncle of the famous Matthias. 
The character of the Ballad in form and manner remarkably 
resembles the narrative poetry of the Slavonian nations ] 

( 1C ) 


BORN 1616 DIED 1GG5. 

Sors bona nihil aliud. ZRINVI'S Motto. 



Miert panaszkodjam, Szercncse, ellcticd, 
Ha bovied mindennap en oromemct ? 

O FORTUNE ! I fling no reproaches at thee, 
For thou hast been gentle and gen'rous to me ; 
And ne'er would I echo the slanders unkind, 
Which call thee unjust, or vindictive, or blind. 

Thou look'st on my love with no menacing air, 
But wouldst help me to win while I worship the fair ; 
And while joy piled on joy flings delight on my days, 
Let thine be the glory, and thine be the praise. 

The first vernal song, and the first vernal leaf, 
And Nature's sweet childhood so beauteous and brief; 
And the nightingale's strain and the rivulet's fall- 
And the light breeze are thine music, beauty, and all. 

And the summer, when cypresses shade me from heat, 
And the zephyrs come freshen'd, to kiss my retreat ; 
Where the tent is above, and the wine-cup goes round, 
And the flowers smile below thou, O Fortune ! art found. 

From autumn's rich harvest thou hasten'sl to pour 
Pomegranates and citrons a limitless store ; 
Or leaclst to the chace, when I follow the prey 
The bird in its flight, or wild beast on its wav. 

O * 



When winter comes on, with its loud-rolling storms, 
And the snow and the ice in their marvellous forms, 
Am I wretched ? O no ! I hang over my fire, 
And have more than I want aye ! and all I desire. 

I have honour and fame, full enough for my lot ; 
And my gettings still add to the treasures I've got : 
My horse is my glory my sabre is true 
And 0, my sweet maid ! thou art faithfulness too. 

O Fortune ! thou wearest my fetters art bound 
In my bonds and I look without terror around : 
No evil will chance me I feel that the chain 
But binds thee more firmly to bless me again. 

[This Song is from the Third Book of the Zrnyiad, verses 32 
39. J 


BORN 1/04 DIED 1/79. 

Die Sprache ist das Pallacluun cines Volks. 





Egy kis tarka madar vig kedveben. 

THOU gay-plumed bird, whose never-bridled flight 
O'er field, o'er forest, is one long delight ; 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, how blest 'twould be 
Thy songs to sing, to fly, to rest with thee, 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 

Thou gay-plumed bird, thou canst no longer sing ! 
Thou art imprisoned by the fowler's spring ; 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I would not go 
Sporting with such delusive treacheries. No ! 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 

Thou gay-plumed bird, though liberty is gone, 
Yet kindness waits thy every want upon ; 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I still should long 
For the free heaven and the wild woodland song, 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 

Thou gay-plumed bird, thy golden chain to me 
Were but a decorated misery ! 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I would not fill 
Thy gaudy prison, were it gaudier still, 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 


Thou gay-plumed bird, they bring thee su;ar'cl meat, 
Use flattering words, caressing while they cheat; 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, that sweetened waste 
Were worse than very poison to my taste, 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 

Thou luckless bird ! Alas ! and thou hast lost 
That plumage, once thy brightness and thy boast ! 
Were I a gay-plumed bird, I could not dwell 
A prisoner in thy solitary cell, 
Thou gay-plumed bird ! 



Nem leszek tobbe szerelmes. 

To Love no more my vows I'll bring, 
For Love is such a dangerous thing ; 
There's poison hid in every dart, 
And canker-worms in every heart, 

Where Love doth dwell. 

I know the little treacherous boy 
Have fought beneath his flag with joy, 
Which brought deep grief: I've worn his chain, 
And wasted many months of pain, 

In his dark cell. 

For she who loves bears doom of woe ; 
Let her not trust the traitor's bow 
Which I have trusted, just to be 
Pierced through and through with misery, 

With misery. 

O forest trees ! so tall that are ; 
O dovelet mine ! that flies so far ; 
Would I could fell that giant grove ! 
Would I could reach that flitting dove ! * 

It may not be ! 

* Ha azt az erdot le vaghatnam 
Galambomat meg lathatnain. 

Vagni, to hew, to fell vaghatni, to be able to hew. Latm } to 
see lathatni, to be able to see. 


How idle on a rush to lean, 

Though waving bright its stem of green ! 

For when the noisy tempest wakes, 

How soon it bends ! how trembling shakes ! 


And bows its head. 

I leaned upon a treacherous rush ; 
He turn'd away, without a blush, 
To other maids : but I was young 
Truth in my spirit, on my tongue, 

Without parade. 

smitten by high Heaven be he 
Who gives his love to two, to three ! 

1 love but one and if he fail me, 
O how could other love avail me ! 

Me hapless maid ! 



Uri ueinzot ereclete 
Deli, jeles, ep termete. 

SHE is born of noble stem, 
Fairer than the fairest gem 
Which upon her robe doth shine, 
Graceful, beautiful, divine. 

What avails it all to me ? 

She is false as false can be ! 

She has eyes like damsons black, 
Shining like the comet's track ; 
Mouth of witchery lightning glance- 
Heaven is in her countenance. 

What avails it all to me ? 

She is false as false can be ! 

Neck of alabaster, lips 

Crimson roses to eclipse, 

Chin of marble's smoothest glow, 


Shoulders piled of purest snow. 
What aveils it all to me ? 
She is false as false can be ! 


Fair when distant, fair when near, 
Fair her smile, and fair her tear ; 
Fair when bending, fair erect 
Unadorn'd, or gem-bedeck'd. 

What avails it all to me ? 

She is false as false can be ! 

She has wit, and song, and sense 
Mirth and sport and eloquence ; 
She has smiles of ecstacy 
Grace and beauty's treasury. 

What avails it all to me ? 

She is false as false can be ! 

I have been on Pindus hill, 
I have heard her music fill 
Fill with glory heaven and earth 
Ne'er such glorious songs had birth. 

What avails it all to me ? 

She is false as false can be ! 



Hires fo'rend nemzeteben, 
Nincscn hiba tenncteben. 

HE is of illustrious name, 

Free from spot, and free from blame ; 

Bred as noble minds are bred, 

Leading, too, as he was led : 
Yet I love him not and I 
Know full well the reason why ! 

Lustrous are his eyes as light, 
And as milk his skin is white ; 
Never did vermillion streak 
Beauty fairer than his cheek : 
Yet I love him not and I 
Know full well the reason why ! 

Wisdom all his forehead arches, 
He is tall as mountain larches ; 
Waving locks of chesnut hair, 
Lips as twilight dawning fair : 
Yet I love him not and 1 
Know full well the reason why ! 


When he sits upon his steed, 

Mars must yield for strength and speed ; 

Here and there, and to and fro, 

Like a Centaur, see, they go : 
Yet I love him not and I 
Know full well the reason why ! 

Witty, wise and honor'd, too ; 

Tasteful, learned, thro' and thro' ; 

Calm, courageous, just, urbane ; 

Courteous, aye ! without a stain : 
Yet I love him not and I 
Know full well the reason why ! 

When he smiles, delight is nigh ; 
Joy salutes him, passing by ; 
Pleasure in his steps is treading, 
And his friendship, 'tis an Eden : 

Yet I love him not for I 

Heard him call me false that's why ! 


150UN 1/13 DIED 1792. 

Hints ro/si'it c' sirra, Magyar ! 's erezzcd az cgc, 
Szcllcinct arczaidon : Kaday uyiigoszik ott. 




Meg gyermekletembeu hallain e' szp meset. 

I WAS a boy and heard this pretty story : 
That Wind and Water play'd with Reputation 
At hide-and-seek together. 

The Water rushed adown the mountain passes, 
But was discovered after long pursuing 
In the deep valleys. 

The Wind flew upwards : 

But it was followed to the mountain summits, 

And soon entrapp'd there. 

Then Reputation was to be imprisoned, 

And Reputation whispered 

In a sonorous voice to her companions : 

" Know, if you lose me know, if once I hide me, 

I'm lost for ever/' 

And so it'was she hid her ; all inquiry 
Was wasted in the seeking ; 
Nothing can renovate that perish'd treasure, 
If thou have lost it - thou hast lost all with it. 





Holycs mondas, a' rest csalc foldnck tcrhe. 

THERE is an ancient saying Idleness 

Is the world's curse : and I have heard a story 

Out of old time, instructive. 

King Matthew once, half-tipsy, put three fellows 
Three idle fellows in a house to fatten ; 
And fate, or forethought, set the house on fire. 
" Ah ! see, the house is burning !" cried the first ; 
" If the King want us," said the second knave, 
" Why he will send and save us." In a rage, 
" Your tongue is very glib," exclaimed the third ; 
And the house went on burning, and they perish'd. 

O there are many idle dogs like these- 
Many who open wide their lazy mouths, 
And think that roasted ortolans will enter. 


BORN 1718 DIED 1789. 

Sok utas nyngodjon falatlnak toveben. 




Csikos 's gulyas nep clubbja rossz vityillo. 

Now, Csikos^ Gulyas, now come hither hither, 

And make your way through fly-swarms numberless, 

And armies of loud croaking frogs, and legions 

Of insects which torment the herds[j come hither, 

Forth from the robbers' nest, and tell me who 

Placed thee in that wild waste. Not what thou seemest 

Art thou. The badges of mine hostel thou bearest 

Deceitful, for thou hast no welcome. Four 

Blank walls, a stable into ruin falling, 

A roof that's like a wash-trough fitful sport 

For the wild winds and all thy wealth is told. 

Nay ! there's a ditch hard by, in which is hidden 

Thy dirty, red-cheeked helpmate and two blocks, 

* Bugacz, a Hungarian village. 

t A sort of inn or public house found in Hungary on the 
wide plains where the wild cattle arc sent to roam. These 
Csardas are visited by the keepers of the herds of horses and 
horned beasts, which are pastured on these almost boundless 

J A keeper of wild horses. 
A keeper of wild oxen. 

|| Immense quantities of insects congregate about the cattle on 
the Hungarian plains. 

^T The keepers of the Csardas dress like landlords. 


Rammed into earth and rotting, where a horseman 

May tie his steed up. Then the hroken kettle, 

And the crack'd pot, still reeking with the odors, 

Not fragrant, of the last long by-gone guests. 

Its bearer looks suspicious, and the travellers 

Rather lie down without, night-frozen, waiting 

The morning, or fly hurrying by, impatient 

To reach their journey's end, than tarry here. 

But when the heaven is veil'd in threat'ning darkness, 

And the fierce battle of the clouds begins, 

And lightning, thundering, burst the furious storms, 

And the winds rage, and down the torrents rush, 

And all the plain becomes a sudden sea 

O, then we are less delicate O, then 

We seek not Farkas,* nor Arany-Sasrf 

Fad-ember^ Hct Elector,^ satisfied 

With something less than best. No quarrel then 

With John the waiter, who has left the key 

Behind him. No ! a little room suffices, 

And we judo-e not the architect. The love 

Of gorgeous buildings is a vanity, 

And it devours the land till, ere too late, 

They and the country totter. He who seeks 

For peace and quiet, will condense his soul, 

Narrow his circle, nor extend desire. 

These marble church-high walls these glass-clad pillars, || 

* Farkas, the Wolf, t Arany-Sas, the Golden Eagle. J Vad- 
ember, the Wild-man. Het Elector, the Electoral Prince. These 
are names of celebrated inns at Vienna and Pesth. 

|| Tiiimeauk. 


Superb recesses,* sparkling chandeliers, 
Vases of China, and Carrara urns, 
And the carved woods of distant worlds do ye 
Give peace ? Are ye the evidence of bliss ? 
Doth happiness dwell with ye ? 

Men of old 

Had better witnesses of joy. The oak, 
The ash, and the wild pear-tree, furnished all 
Their dwellings, and the lofty pine their floors, 
Or oft the solid earth. One chamber made 
A home when guests, however numerous, came, 
A blanket flung around them well suffic'd. 
No rich superfluous beds the roof was thatch 
And the walls hung with friendly arms around ; 
Not silk or paper tap'stry wooden stools 
Or benches round the smiling board, and plates 
Of earthenware or tin but bliss was there, 
And mirth, and song, and friendship. We possess 
The show, but the reality is gone. 
How many are the cabinets where now 
An honest Chizma-f may not tread shut out 
By slippers, socks, and other fantasies, 
With which a man must garnish, or remain 
In th' outer chamber. 

Csarda ! Unto me 
Thy desolate retreats are dearer far 

* Parquetek. 

f These are the boots worn by the Hungarians, forming a 
part of the national dress. 


Than all these follies. Come I night or day 

Splash'd, streaming, soak'd, and even with forty guests, 

I am as welcome as a monarch coming 

To peace unbroken : then thy oven gives 

Bread finer than Keskemeths,* and thy vaults 

Flow with the richest of Korosianf wines. 

let the pilgrim rest in thy sweet shades ! 

* A town in the Pesth district, renowned for the peculiar 
excellence of its bread. 

t Koros, the name of many villages in Hungary and Transyl- 
vania. It is a favorite name in poetry. I am not aware which 
Koros is particularly distinguished for its wines. Altenburg in 
Transylvania is Korosbanya in the Magyar. 

[The above is from a modernized version of Kazinczy.] 


( 30) 


BORN 1739 DIED 1819. 

Hol majd az 6V/ Szabo? 




Say, why all birds hate the Wren and the Owl ? I will 
tell you the reason : 

Once, heaven's feather'd inhabitants, aping the manners 
of mortals, 

Swore they would make them a monarch. So they all 
gathered together : 

Great was the noise, and unbounded the strife, and loud 
the confusion. 

Lastly, they all agreed, and every one promised obedience : 

He who the highest can soar 'midst the lofty clouds of 

He shall be king. 'Twas said and each, on pinions am- 

Urged his upward flight but the mightier influence of 

Depressed them down to earth. Some fluttered in midway 

Some were exhausted and fell some rose aloft like an 

And like an arrow they sunk. Passion and power brought 

Weakness and dire defeat and all earth's face was co- 


And all the lower skies, with the wrecks of pride and pre- 

Lost in the crowd, the small Wren looked on in destitute 
sadness : 

Poor little flutterer ! how should he hope to soar over his 
brethren ? 

Who would have thought that his cunning would serve him 
in trial far better 

Better than strength ? You shall hear how ingenious his 

o o 

dextrous devices : 

The Eagle was rising aloft he sprung on his wing, till he 

High in the clouds through the clouds ; while the little 
Wren, silently crouching, 

Rose with the Eagle, and saw the combatants vanquished 
beneath them 

Heard their loud voices which cried All hail to our So- 
vereign and Ruler ! 

Pride is too confident oft, and slippery the footsteps of mo- 

Perch'd on his pinions, the Wren soon stole all his honors 
imperial ; 

When he could speed no higher, the little Wren sprung 
from the Eagle 

Sprung, and singing, still soared, and claimed the homage 
of subjects. 

Vain was his pride, reproved was his falsehood, and sad- 
ness came with it ; 

All the assembled tribes spurned the usurper with scoffings, 


Bid the Owl go forth and arrest and watch over the traitor. 
Great v/as his eye, and bright so fitting was he for a 


Wisdom's not always wise, nor prudence over prudential. 
Yet shall the Wren be king imprisonment gives him the 


Sleep o'ertook the Owl the little Wren fluttered his pi- 
Flew on the breezy wind, and escaped from the scene of 

Justice summons her court dispatches her minions to 

bring him : 

Lo ! the Owl asleep and the Wren go, ask of the sun- 

Rage and reproaches cover the careless Owl thenceforward 
Crowds of birds pursue the sleeping, slovenly guardian : 
Never again by day may he venture his hated intrusions 
Never, till twilight darkens, and night comes clouded in 


Even his voice, when heard, awakens the hate of the song- 
He, like the crafty hound, has track'd the footsteps of 

Where the poor hare, thro' woods, o'er groves and lonely 


Flies to be hidden, in vain the fugitive soon is discovered. 
So the Owl's wild scream brings every bird about him- 
One long torment is his, and a permanent persecution. 


BORN 1/52 

Bring Kl<nvci> ! 



Hovii iTgadtok ? mclly ligetck, '.< sctct. 

WHERE do ye bear me ? Into what solitude 
'Midst groves and valleys ? Daughters of Helicon ! 
Have ye awakened new fires in my bosom ? 
Have ye transported my spirit ? 

Here in this quiet temple of loneliness 
Will I pour out the songs of divinity 
To the Hungarian Minerva, and worship 
At the immortal one's altar. 

Yes ! I will read all the deeds of futurity. 
Dark-mantled groves, sweet fountains of gentleness, 
Have ye not thoughts to overwhelm me with transport, 
And to upbear me to heaven ? 

As ye have borne the bright virgins of victory, 
Whom with a passionate longing for blessedness 
Fain I would follow ; and breathing of glory, 
Heavenly sisters ! I hail ye. 



Vad Tracziauak durva lakossai. 

To the uncivilized Thracian the wine-cup 
Seems to drop poison ; he furiously seizes 
The sabre, and wields it in passion, 
And scatters around him the death-wounds. 

Ye who were nursed at the breast of affection, 
Nursed with the sweet milk of gentleness, wherefore 
This struggle this raging of fury ? 
Be still cease the storm of the battle ! 

Harper ! awake thy soft music the music 
Which charms thine own maiden sing joyous : the moon- 

That smiles on our cup so benignly, 
Will soon be o'ershadowed in darkness. 

High in the heaven doth the traveller linger, 
Rolling her chariot in brightness and glory : 
Doth she not feel that the mantle 
Of twilight envelopes the morning ? 



Oh mclly orommel nyujtanck. 

PASSING sweet it were to me 
A flowery wreath to offer thee ; 

But ah ! the north wind's stormy blast 
Has made my garden all a waste, 
And every flower that rear'd its head 
Is swept away has perished. 

The storm has swept the flowers away, 
The thorns and nettles lingering stay ; 
But saddest fate of all too well 

1 loved the rose, and lo ! it fell. 

One thought of peace is left that spring 
Some other flowers of hope will bring, 
And fate the perish'd good repair, 
By dreams as fleeting, but as fair. 



Melly sz|) nevcd van, nacnnyei hunuatuk'. 

SWEET is thy name, Aurora thou heavenly 
Day-giver sweeter thy deeds than thy name. 
Smiling, thou lookest from thy chariot of gold, 
And the darkness of night rolleth gently away. 

Light beams and glows in thy glance thou avvakest 
Life and arousest bright joy at thy gifts 
Innocent birdlets sing praises and bless thee, 
Chanting their matin of exquisite tones. 

Then do they fear the fierce vulture no longer 
Fear not the talons of evil nor dread 
Screech of the owl, in the sunny ray blinking 
Silent his voice and inactive his eye. 

Beautiful change hath enamour'd creation : 
'Tis the Creator for He and His laws 
Reign ever-during : all things are shifting- 
All, but the godlike machine of the world. 


Is there, of earth or heaven, no one to hear me 
No one to sooth this bitterness of anguish ? 


Strike, thou blest hour ! whose summoning voice shall call 



Out of my sorrows into my seclusion : 
Free my torn heart from this tormented bosom, 
And let the earth receive its earth and ashes : 
Then, when I speak, some friendly hand may garland 
O'er the tall cross some melancholy flowrets 
Friendship's mementoes truth's sweets breathing pledges- 
Dropping a tear upon my clayey ruins. 




HOLY, peace-giving stillness ! my spirit's retreat ! and the 


Grief chooses to hear her appeals and her longing desires ; 
I carve on the tree-bark the name of the only beloved 
PHILLIS it grows 'tis an emblem and pledge of my love. 

( 51 ) 


BORN 1759. 

Oinma cautat, omuia ornat. 
Pi eta vagy 's historiciis. 


E 2 



Brekeke, brekeke ! 

Koax, too-oo ! 
Brekoke, koax brekeke, too-oo ! 

Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke ; 
Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ; 
Brekeke, too-oo ! 
Brekeke, brekeke ! 

'Tis the dawn of delight to the sons of the pond ; 
From its green bed they look to the bright moon beyond. 

Brekeke, brekeke, 
Koax, too-oo; 

Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ! 
The thunderer made us the favorites of Heaven ; 
'Neath the green-vaulted wave how we thrive and have 

thriven ! 

All honor and praise to his wisdom be given. 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke ; 
Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ! 

In ages departed, 
Our home was the sky ; 
But hot Phoebus darted 
His rays from on high ; 


Arid then we descended, 

And so we are here, 

No helper attended, 

No helping was near ; 

The heads of our nation 

Look'd up from the wave, 

And called for salvation 

On him who could save. 

He turned away frowning, 

And Nemesis cried, 

" Jove ! doom them to drowning!" 


He laugh'd at our pride, 

Nor thought of the danger 

Of waking our power. 

At last his hot anger 

Passed quietly o'er ; 

An epoch of blessings 

Soon dawn'd on our race ; 

And Juno's caressings, 

More sweet than before, 
O'ershadow'd with glory this beautiful place. 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke ; 
Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ! 

Our temple is bright as 
The temple above ; 
Its arches as light as 


Heaven's arches of love. 


Our water's of crystal, 

Where sheltered we dwell ; 

And the arrows have miss'd all 

From Phoebus that fell. 

Poseidon, the brother 

Of Jove, is our sire, 

Our guardian no other 

We own nor desire ; 

Each Nereid and Triton 

Belongs to our band. 

When Sirius shines bright on 

The ocean and land, 

The Gods spread their curtain 

Their favorites to shield ; 

All danger averting 

On fountain and field. 

So thanks, cordial thanks, to the thunderer of heaven, 
Who pour'd out the waves where we thrive and have 

thriven ; 

All honor and praise to his wisdom be given. 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekcke ; 
Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ! 

Be still, all ye dwellers 
The waters among : 
Hark ! hark ! the excellers 
In music and song 
We, taught by Apollo, 


Be silent, and hear, 
Thou Anadiomene ; 
Peace, and give ear, 
Whales sturgeons shall follow. 
The frogs care not how many 
Listeners appear, 
If silence respectful be here ; 
For we in the waters, 
Of all their vast throng, 
Are melody's daughters, 
And heirs of sweet song. 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke ; 
Koax, koax too-oo, too-oo ; 
Koax, too-oo ! 

When tuning our vesper, 

As twilight appears, 

The sweet-smiling Hesper 

Oft lingers and hears; 

And Cynthia, she tarries 

To list and admire, 

While every fair star is 

All jealous desire ; 

And often we hear them exclaiming, How blest, 
In these tranquil green waters to revel and ret>t ! 

The reverend Tellus, 

She wonders what power 

To such songs can impel us ; 

On us doth she shower 


Her brightness and glory, 

The valleys around ; 

The mountains, though hoary, 

Grow young at the sound. 
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke, brekeke ; 
Too-oo koax, koax loo-oo, too-oo ! 

There is in the forest 

A colorless bird, 

Whose song is the poorest 

And saddest e'er heard 

Deep, deep in the bushes 

The creature is hidden, 

Whence oft his noise gushes 

O, why not forbidden ! 

His voice thrilling o'er us 

Confuses our chorus. 

The Gods, interfering, 

Have punish'd the fool, 

And given him a hearing 

Of melody's school ; 

He flies with his riot, 

He hurries away, 

Leaves heaven to its quiet, 
And earth to be gay. 

Yes! gay with our music till winter, and then 
We bury our voice in sad silence again, 
Till the spring breaks anew on the freshness of youth, 
And we walk in the spirit of music and truth, 
To pour forth our anthems o'er forest and plain, 


Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke! 
The thunderer made us the favorites of heaven, 
In the green shallow waters we thrive and have thriven, 

O ' 

All honor and praise to his wisdom be given. 

Brekeke, brekeke, 
Koax, koax ! Too-oo, too-oo! 



Miduu az hajnal clvcri almonat. 

'Tis morning and I wake the earliest vision 

That beams upon me is thy face divine ; 

And then my spirit floats in light elysian, 

And bliss springs youthful from those smiles of thine, 

" 'Tis she 'tis she!" I cry, swift flow my veins, 

I kiss the air, as if her breath had bless'd it 

I bow to earth, as if her feet had press' d it 

Yes! she was here, and still her influence reigns. 

Fair Representative ! the sweet infection 

Of power is with thee gentle, but supreme ; 

Blending such dreams of hope and recollection 

And gilding with new glory every dream : 

Look! for the sun is up, and on thy face 

Throws all its lustre, light, and heavenly grace. 



A' tunya borz szcnnycs gudrcbcu neztc szokeseit. 

A DIRTY badger, from his noisome dwelling, 
Observ'd from branch to branch a squirrel springing : 
'Twas near the badger's den where dwelt the squirrel, 
On an old tree, to Pan once consecrated. 
" Ho! Cousin, Ho!" so cried the dirty badger, 
" Hast thou forgotten, say, that thou by nature 
Art classed among the quadrupeds ? 'Tis folly 
And an unseemly vanity that make thee 
Ashamed of earth and seeking habitation 
Among the fowls of heaven. Descend, companion ; 
Come dwell among thy kindred, and abandon 
Thy towering friskings. Cousin bear leaps often, 
I too, sometimes but then it is with discretion." 
The little creature listened to the counsel, 
And answered meekly " I am but a squirrel, 
And thou a badger." 



WHERE the gay streamlet 

Springs from the mountain, 

Laughing and dancing 

Came a sweet maiden 

Bearing a violet, 

A/Aire and odorous ; 

Smiling she dropt it 

Into my bosom; 

And on my forehead, 

Planted warm kisses 

Many and glowing 

" Breathe thro' thy harp-strings," 

Thus said the maiden ; 

" Breathe out the spirit 

I have awakened" 

Swiftly she vanished. 

Then came a dovelet, 
Flutt'rmg, complaining, 
And a green cradle 
Made of young branches, 
Touching n>y lips 
With sweet dewy honey. 


As I grew older, 
Beautiful visions 
Glanc'd thro' the foliage 
Of the old oak trees ; 
Near the clear streamlet 
Rising irriguous, 
Visions of beauty 
Which my song chaunted. 
Then did my country 
And her bright children 
Waken its music 
Then did love's passion 
Thrill thro' the harp-strings, 
And the bright eye-balls 
Of that divine one, 
Who in the darkness 
Of the green garden, 
Beam'd and fled smiling. 


Wicked one ! darling 
Into my bosom 
And then departing. 



Szokj,' Epigramma, di ncin mint nyil molly cxi'lra fut t'.s ul. 

' FLY, Epigram, fly, but not like a barb that wounds as it 

hurries ; 

Fly like a kiss, which the loving one tremblingly steals ; 
Lo ! 'tis just heard and retain'd from the fire of the 

odorous maiden 
Flames have been waked on my lips, and a heat has pos- 

sess'd all my heart. 



MY little bark of life is gently speeding 

Adown the stream 'midst rocks, and sands, and eddies, 

And gathering storms, and dark'ning clouds unheeding, 

Its quiet course thro' waves and winds it steadies. 

My love is with me and my babes whose kisses 

Sweep sorrow's trace from off my brow as fast 

As gathering there and hung upon the mast 

Are harp and myrtle flowers, that shed their blisses 

On the sweet air. Is darkness on my path ? 

Then beams bright radiance from a star that hath 

Its temple in the heaven. As firm as youth 

I urge my onward way there is no fear 

For honest spirits. Even the fates revere 

And recompense love, minstrelsy, and truth. 



O ! I have passed a day of ecstacy ! 
Leading two lovely sisters forth among 
The flowers, the meadows, and the forest song, 
To the still stream where murmuring poplars be 
There did we sit beneath th' overshadowing tree, 
Watching the waters as they roll'd along. 
She sang joy ! what smiles what blushes throng 
Upon those cheeks and what delight for me ! 
What witchery in those silver-sounding notes ! 
How all enchanting that soft music floats ! 
The air is thrilling with its sounds divine : 
But sweeter, sweeter far when on my ear 
Enraptur'd one blest breathing fell <f My dear- 
My dear delighted listener ! I am thine." 



Add te Pysched' nckem, 'Eros, oh add ! *s vedd lantomat trie. 

" GIVE me thy Psyche, young Eros! Ogive, and my lute 
will I give thee 

Doubled thy influence, Mighty One ! doubled thy tran- 
sports shall be." 

I, for thy lute, give my Psyche, Apollo ? My lute is mine 
arrow : 

Said and straight heaven-ward the magical arrow up 

Full on hexameters rush'd the arrow's loud whizzing as- 

And as it whispering fell a pentameter woke. 



'Egtem rted 's te szerettel. 

'TWAS for thee I burned thou burnedst 

Still I burn, but thou art frozen ; 
Thou dost hide thy thoughts returnedst 

Not the love which thou hadst chosen. 
Still thy heart, to thee appealing, 

Tells thee of thy faithless deeds ; 
Mine, all shades of misery feeling, 

Only dreams, and weeps, and bleeds. 

All dispersed, and all departed, 

Are those visions once so drear ; 
Wounded, bleeding, broken-hearted, 

No reproaches shalt thou hear. 
May thy bliss desert thee never 

Never let my gloom be thine ; 
I, with proud emotion ever, 

Think that Minni's heart was mine. 



Milliok kcizott sines cgy kit a' fenc. 

OF the earth's many millions, none like me 
Hath the blind Ate marked for sorrow none ; 
Each, each his share of gloom and grief may see, 
Yet have their guardian angels every one. 
I have no guardian angel left alone 
By heaven and by the world ; and misery 
E'en in my bone-pith helpless, woe-begone ; 
No balsam nought but tears, shed ceaselessly. 

E'en Eros multiplies my sad alarms : 

" Let Ate's anger sooth his joys," he said ; 

And Sophie slumbered sweetly in my arms : 

Now is a light upon my darkness shed ; 

And I, by love's strong influence shielded o'er, 

Hear Ate's savage threatenings no more. 



EVER absent, ever near ; 
Still I see thee, still I hear ; 
Yet I cannot reach thee, dear ! 



How the fierce beast the gentle child obeys, 
And love's mild power the wildest spirit sways ! 
Lo ! how the baby lifts his kingly hand, 
Both earth and heaven submit to his command ; 
And I, sweet Nice ! since I wore thy chain, 
Seek to rebel against his rule, in vain. 

( 70 


BORN 1768 DIED 1/96. 

Hiiuc tantuni populo monstrarunt fata, 




Az n szcrelmes eranek. 

I HAVE made a part of mine, 
All my loved one's being ; 
Trifling when he trifles, 
Smiling when he smiles, 
Mourning when he mourns, 
And joyous when he joys ; 
But when he, forgetting me, 
Frequent kiss to Phillis gives, 
O, I weep, I weep. 



Homalyos bfmat dulja lelkcmct. 

MY soul is troubled with an ancient sorrow, 
Which grows again anew ; and gloomy themes, 
Gathering afresh, o'ershadow me with dreams 
Of a mysterious darkness on the morrow. 
I fain would weep, and yet can find no tears 
Nought but the broken sigh and stifled groan : 
These are the tenants of my heart alone,' 
And their deep underminings steal my years. 

O that the tears, joy's freshening tears, would fall ! 

They come not to the weak and wounded breast; 

They rush both for and from the fount of rest. 

If thou art not than marble harder all, 

Know that the silent pang, the grief that speaks not, 

Is of all woes the deadliest and to bear 

The heart that throbs and burns, while yet it breaks not, 

Is worse than death for death a blessing were. 

(73 ) 


BORN 1770. 

Oh rog mar, reg, bogy e Szepck Szepct 
Nyomozom, inert Istenseg 'keze 

Lelkembc metszette o szeut kepct 
Ho^y lelekke neveze. 


74 JOHN K1S. 


Szivcranck Icgfelscgcsl balvanya. 

GODDESS of thy votary's heart! 
Wisdom ! tell me where thou art! 
Holy virgin ! in the throng 
Of mighty worlds I seek thy throne 
I seek thee, and have sought thee long- 
Of loveliest ones, the loveliest one ! 
The right hand of the Deity 
Graved in my heart thine image bright, 
And the reflected ray from thee 
Makes nature's darkness melt in light. 

Blest daughter of the skies, who sheddest 
Undying beams, and smiling spreadest 
Th' eternal green and gifts of spring 
Thou, who o'er heaven's crystal gates dost fling 
A light of purest, fairest glistening, 
And standest at the portal listening 
To songs which angel voices sing. 


Sister of heavenly sisters ! Truth 
Goes with thee, and untainted youth. 
Thou on the flowery mounds dost sport 
With Innocence, while thy fair cheek 
The roses of contentment streak, 
And glorious palms thy hands support. 
Thy thoughts, thy feelings and desire, 
The harmonious choirs of heaven inspire ; 
Thou passion's furies know'st to bridle, 
Things as they are thy bright eyes see ; 
Thou wilt not bow thee to the idol, 
However bright the diamond be, 
Fixed on his brow of mystery. 

The golden chains of order bound 
The everlasting spheres around 
Thou measurest, as those spheres advance 
Like bright-eyed virgins in the dance 
Of beauty; and no poisoned spear 
Wielded by demon hand is there 
To wound the heart, the bliss to steal, 
Which all creation's tenants feel. 

Th' All-former's hidden works are known 
To thee his everlasting will 
Thou seest all upward mounting, still 
Still higher mounting, to the throne, 
Where Good ? pure Good, resides alone ; 


Thou seest the fires of discipline, 
Improve, sublime, correct, refine 
Till as the mists dissolve away, 
In the diffusing smiles of day, 
Man glides from mortal to divine. 

Dweller in heaven, from heav'n upsprung- 
All all has heavenly looks for thee ; 
Thou hearest songs in every tongue, 
In every motion melody ; 
Thou bathest in eternal streams 
Of endless hope and joy, and findest 
Repose and light in all heaven's schemes, 
Which seem the strangest and the blindest. 

Thou hallowed goddess of my heart, 
Tell me, O tell me where thou art ! 
Where thine eternal home ? and say, 
May not my spirit wend its way 
(For passionate longing might find pinions 
To reach even thy sublime dominions) 
To thine abode ? Can nought but spirit 
Thy presence seek, thy friendship merit ? 
Why struggling after thee, O why, 
Sink we in deep obscurity ? 

Yet when at morning-dawn I bring 
A matin-incense to thine altar 
When, tho' I scarcely breathe, but falter, 
And at the evening twilight fling 


My heart before thee, on the wing 
Of the calm breeze, methinks I hear 
Thy voice tell me, art thou there ? 
Methinks, when at the midnight hour, 
In solemn silence fluttering by, 
The whisper that some viewless power 
Passes, in angel-chariot, nigh ; 
Methinks that whisper needs must be 
Some herald's voice announcing thee. 



BORN 1772. 

Eggy Istennert, eggy Hazaert 

'Egett hajdan, durvan hiv, 
Eggy Matkaert, nyoszobjaert 

A' torzsokos Magyar sziv ; 
De se Isten, se Hazahoz 

Sok KigyalCiltt Magyar sziv, 
Se szavahoz se Parjahoz 

Se magahoz most nem hiv ! 
Eggy Istenem, eggy a' hazam 
Erzi szlvem, Vs vallya a' szam ; 

'S eggy szerelme szivemnek 
Mint szlvc eggy keblemnek. 



I. DAL. 7. 
Mint a' szarvas, kit megere. 

As the suffering hart confounded 

By the lance that tears his veins ; 
Flies in vain for he is wounded, 

Vainly flies to woods or plains : 
Since thy piercing eye look'd thro' me, 

So I flee and vainly flee ; 
Still thy magic barbs pursue me 

I am wounded, maid ! by thee. 
And the wound but seems the stronger, 
As my flight is further longer 

Smitten heart ! alas ! thy pain 

Seeks relief or rest in vain. 


I. DAL. 13. 

Boldog vagy te, czifra madar ! 

THEE I envied, joyous bird ! 

Singing love-songs in the dell 
To thy mate : each note I heard 

Seem'd with joy and truth to swell. 
I have also songs, which sweetly 

Tell the tale of love yet fall 
Unobserved, however meetly 

Answering beauty's fancied call. 
Happy bird ! that singst love's joy 
I, its sorrows, its annoy 

Would I had th' alternative, 

For thy song my soul to give ! 


I. DAL -26. 
Tonneszetnek 'Eltetoj . 

Tnou sublimcst life-creator, 

Who didst breath and being give, 
Thou, all worlds' regenerator, 

In and by whose life we live : 
Heart-controller thou hast chosen 

Thus its boiling streams to move ; 
Better were it chilPd and frozen, 

Than tormented thus by love. 
O ! condemn me not, my father ! 
If I err but pity rather 

As she stole mv reason she, 


And not I, must guilty be. 



I. DAL. 51. 

Miclun a' Hold' vilagaban. 

OFT in fancy's rapturous noonlight 

Thy resplendent face I see : 
Oft, when wandering 'neath the moonlight, 

On the waves, I welcome thee. 
In my dreams I Jiold communion 

With thy bright love-laughing eyes ; 
Thoughts of sympathy and union 

From my broken heart arise. 
O the blest, the heavenly greeting ! 
Vision fair as fair as fleeting : 

Soon the illusions all decay, 

As thine image glides away. 


I. DAL. 57. 

Gyenneksegem' szep idi-ji. 

SWIFT the golden moments flitted 

Of my childhood's blissful days 
Soon the smiling joys retreated, 

Which o'er boyhood flung their rays. 
Spring, whose footstep never lingers, 

Flowers upon the vernal field, 
All the forest's plumy singers, 

All the lights that nature gild 
Will not winter's breath destroy them ? 
Other springs shall re-enjoy them ; 

Youth rekindles not its beam 

Why do I so idly dream ? 

G 2 


I. DAL. 154. 


Mint tanczolt 0, a' Graczia ! 

As the zephyrs, gay and airy, 

Glance thro' nature's flowery hall ; 

So she glides a graceful fairy, 
Thro' the mazes of the ball. 

O how stately are her paces ! 
O how princely is her gait ! 

All her path is led by graces, 
Light and beauty on her wait. 

And those lips that smile so brightly, 

And that breast that heaves so lightly ; 
On how many hearts did she 
Fling the chains of slavery ! 


I. DAL. 172, 
Tegcd' latlak az EgcktieL 

IN the blue horizon's beaming, 
Thee, sweet maid ! alone I see ; 

In the silver wavelets streaming, 
Thee, sweet maiden ! only thee. 

Thee, in day's resplendent noonlight, 
Glancing from the sun afar ; 

Thee, in midnight's softer moonlight ; 
Thee, in every trembling star. 

Wheresoe'er I go, I meet thee ; 

Wheresoe'er I stay, I greet thee ; 
Following always everywhere : 
Cruel maiden ! O, forbear ! 


I. DAL. 176. 
Szclid Muzsak ! jol tudom en. 

MUSES ! honour her the sweetest 

Her by smiling graces nurst ; 
Music ! when the fair thou greetest, 

Greet her fairest greet her first. 
I have seen her bright eyes glisten 

When the poet touch' d his chord ; 
Yet she will not deign to listen 

To mine unobtrusive word. 
Maiden ! wherefore so capricious ? 
Is the minstrel too ambitious ? 

Doth his silence please thy will ? 

Listen, maiden ! he is still. 


II. DAL. 16. 

Mas a' Vilag' abrazattya, 

ALL the bright world's charms seem brighter, 

All the frowns of grief are gone ; 
Livelier beats my heart and lighter ; 

Sweeter is my harp's sweet tone. 
Life's fresh spring is renovated, 

Bliss finds wings of pride and power, 
Nobler passions are created, 

Being's struggles upward tower : 
I, a new-born life possessing, 
Lov'd and loving bless'd and blessing 

Darkening thoughts have pass'd away, 

All is new delight and day. 



II. DAL. 41. 

Tolc jonnck, HOZZH tcrnck. 

THOU of all my thoughts' vibrations 

Art the origin and end ; 
All my spirit's agitations 

From thee spring, and to thee tend. 
All that fortune frees or fetters, 

What it builds, and what it breaks, 
All it banns, and all it betters, 

All from thee its innate takes. 


By her smile of beauty lighted, 
By her look of sorrow blighted, 

All receives its powers from her, 

Love's divine interpreter. 


II. DAL. 44. 

Mint elo'zi akaratoin'. 

O HOW sweet to see thee cumbered 
With my happiness to see 

All the little cares unnumbered, 
Fond affection takes for me ! 

Heaven has nought to give us sweeter 
Than a joy-conferring wife, 

And a smile of love to greet her 
'Tis the unclouded heaven of life. 

Like a sunbeam she enhances 

Love's own radiance with her glances ; 
And where'er the sweet one is, 
There is peace and there is bliss. 


II. DAL. 75. 

Nein ki nevcrt, dicsosegert. 

NOT the songs to Pindus brought, 

By the unholy thirst for glory ; 
Not the songs by riches bought 

The perfidiousness of story : 
Noi but that life-sparkling fountain, 

Springing forth from transport's soul, 
Up to joy's delirium mounting, 

Gladdening nature's glowing whole, 
Winging love's cloud-piercing arrow 
Thro' time's boundaries, dark and narrow, 

Wending tow'rds the heavens along, 

Tliis this only be my song. 


II. DAL. 87. 

Ez* orfinak lejarttaval. 

Now another century blended 
With past centuries rolls away ; 

When another century's ended, 
All that lives will be but clay. 

Thou and I a pair so joyous, 
Spite of dance and song must die ; 

Time, rude tempest, will destroy us, 
On his death-piles shall we lie. 

Dost thou mourn ? mourn no longer ! 

Death is strong, but love is stronger ; 
And where'er we go, shall go, 
Sheltering us from lonely woe. 


11, DAL. 130. 
Alig ne/i magfit kiiru'l. 

SCARCE upon the troubled ocean 

Doth life's steersman seek a home, 
Ere he feels an awful motion 

Drag him downwards to the tomb. 
In the very bud of being 

Lies the hidden seed of death ; 
And we feel, and hear, and see in 

All, perdition's withering breath. 
'Tis a hasty, busy meeting, 
An eternal farewell greeting, 

Hurrying all our paths along 

Life as fugitive as song. 


II. DAL. 163. 

Oily sziikseges szivcmnek O. 

TELL me, can the human breast 
Live no breath, no air inspiring ? 

Can the soul of man be blest 

If sweet love pour not its fire in ? 

What to life are soul and spirit, 
Is the glow of love to me ; 

Loveless, what do I inherit 
What ? but blank mortality. 

Love, smile on ! and fears and dangers 

To my bosom shall be strangers ; 
Roll the storm, and fall the rain 
All their menaces are vain. 

( 94) 


BORN 17/2. 

Vcrsct akarsz tolem, Lidi ? 'En csak hiir vagyok. Amor 
A' lantos. Tolem verset akarsz e ? szeress. 




Hej juhasz bojtar ! hoi a' juh ? 

SAY, Shepherd ! where thy sheep are gone, 

And why this discontented frown ? 
They're wending forth to Balaton,* 

And heavy sorrows press me down. 
I eat not, drink not but I lie 

Like a fell'd trunk upon the plain ; 
The sun sinks downwards from the sky, 

And gives me up to night and pain. 
O hopeless doom ' She turns away, 

Indifference in her eyes I see ; 
In vain my Shepherd's pipe I play 

She listens not, nor looks on me. 
The freshest milk, the whitest lamb, 

And wreaths of knots, to her I bore ; 
And all I have, and all I am 

Life, soul would give, to win her o'er. 
Her face f I press'd with kisses sweet, 

Upon her breast my sighs outpour'd, 
Fell, like a pilgrim, at her feet, 

And drank her every breath and word. 

* The lake of Balaton. 

t Kepere, face meaning picture. 


But what of this ? She knows it all, 

And all forgets she laughs at woe ; 
No pity on despair lets fall ; 

For other youth her passions glow. 
But God shall punish her. O why, 

Why was that lovely maid untrue ? 
Why did she bid my pleasure die : 

Why pierce my heart, and pierce it through ? 
When shepherdless my sheep shall stray, 

And madness thought and hope destroy, 
" Shame on the maid !" the youths will say ; 

" Poor fool ! beloved Shepherd boy !" 



Nem adott az Isten nekem nagy palotat. 

No elegant palace God raised o'er my head, 

Rich tapestry gave not, nor silk to my bed ; 

But a cottage of peace, and a rude, healthy life, 

And, to crown my enjoyments, a brown, cheerful wife. 

Together we earn the coarse bread which we eat, 

And love makes it taste more delightfully sweet ; 

When our labours are ended, together \ve rest, 

And each to the other's bare bosom is prest. 

The sun rises up and we rise, full of joy, 

Full of strength, to the busy day's wonted employ. 

Then the spring dawns in green, and the fields smile anew, 

And every fresh flow'ret is dripping with dew ; 

And the song of the lark pours its melodies sweet, 

Like a zephyr of freshness on summer's close heat. 

Then comes the gay vintage the red grapes we bear, 

And alike of the labor and recompence share. 

The winter puts on its white robes we retire 

At even and bend o'er our own cottage fire. 

My Sari turns round the gay spindle and sings, 

And out of our happiness time makes its wings. 

I have handicraft labors and, happy the thought, 

For this pay no taxes to Germans nor ought. 




The sabbath comes round, and in holiday gear 

I go to God's dwelling then quietly steer 

To the Kortsma,* where, cheer' d by a wine-loving brother, 

We pledge a full glass, and we laugh with each other ; 

Get warm, and we call on the Gipsies to play. 

I know of no care, roll the world as it may : 

I nothing am owed, and to nobody owe 

Hurting none, none will hurt me so smiling we go 

On the rude path of life when its labors are past, 

Death will find us both ready and cheerful at last. 

* Inn. 



A* szerelem, Lidikem ! ollyau, mint regel az arnyek. 

LOVE, my sweet Lidi ! resembles the fugitive shadows of 

morning ; 

Shorter and shorter they grow, and at length disappear. 
Friendship our friendship is like the beautiful shadows 

of evening, 
Spreading and growing till life and its light pass away. 



Vei set akarsz tolem Lidi ? 'En csak hCir vagj ok. 

You ask me for song I am but the lyre ; 
The harper is Cupid fair maiden ! inspire ! 



Kouuyeket, o feleseg ! ha szeretsz, sirotnra ne csorgass. 

WIFE ! if thou love me, O mourn not upon the death-sod 

of thy husband : 

Tears will ne'er summon me back to the regions of time ; 
Tears from thine eyes will disturb death's calm slumber of 

Bliss was our portion on earth shall I weep in the grave ? 



Mikepen ozek a' fris. 

As the hart the freshening waters. 
As the bee the balmy flow'rets, 

So I love the joyous wine-drops, 
So I love the wine-drops, mingled 

With sweet songs and sweet songs blended 
With thy kisses, rosy Czenczi ! 

Drinking wine, then joys awaken ; 

Joys awakening, waken music ; 
And the power of love gives being 

To thy love nor can I envy 
Even the hallow'd monarch's purple, 

Nor the bliss that others covet. 

Happy am I with the wine-cup, 

And with music's song yet happier; 

But of all the happiest, Czenczi, 
Happiest, Czenczi ! with thy kisses. 



Bar Matrahegy lehetnek. 

WERE I but the Matra-hill, 
Czenczi ! that for centuries long 
Thou mightst look upon my brow ! 
Were I the pale Duna-stream, 
The proud Duna-stream, that thou 
Hundred years in me mightst bathe ! 
Were I ^Etna's burning mount, 
That for ages I might be, 
Czenczi ! warmth and glow to thee ! 
But, not Matra-hill, nor pale 
Duna ah ! nor burning JEtna, 
Can I ever, ever be. 

Well, then, let us both improve 
The swift lightning-flash of time, 
Life ! nor let the rapid spark 
Hurry unenjoy'd away. 
Let us seize them we enjoy 
Hundred years aye ! thousand years ; 
Though we are but what we were, 
And must needs be mortal things. 



THE moon (who hides her face by day) the darkness doth 

Just like the thief and sad to say, she is just like the 




Annyi veszelyek man, hogy boldog letteni, irigylecl ? 

WHAT ! dost thou envy my happiness, bought with such 

struggles and perils ? 
I wish thy happiness too and when will it bless thee ? 

In death. 

( 106 ) 


BORN 1774 DIED 1805. 

Dudolj verset ! Kinek ? A' Magyar Nemzetnek. 




Illatja rozmariuuak. 

BREATH of rosemary, honey-sweetness 
Of the fig, the daisy scarlet, 
To the smell, the taste, the eyesight, 
All are equally delightful. 

Did they never, never mingle 
All these graces ne'er unite ? 
Look upon the ripen'd cherry, 
It is red, and it is sweet ; 
Fragrant is the golden melon, 
Fragrant nectar to the taste ; 
Roses are as fair as satin, 
And their odours amber all ; 
But the rosemary, the daisy, 
Fig and cherry, melon, rose, 
All are marvellously united 
In the lovely strawberry : 
Beauteous to the eye its color, 
Honey to the lips its taste, 
And its breath is exquisite. 


I will set thee, lovely Strawberry, 
On the table of the Gods ; 
If thy tongue could find a language 
Or a kiss, thou wouldst resemble 
Lilla's ever-beauteous lips. 



Evoi- ! 

Bacchus ! Evan ! Evoe ! 

Evoe ! 

Bacchus ! fill up the spirit with glee ! 
What though the snows of the winter may fall- 
Bring wine to me ! 

Bring wine to me bring wine to all ! 

Evoe ! 

Single voice. 
Bacchus ! with cheerful voice, 

Praise to thee devotion brine's : 


Where thou art the heavens rejoice, 
And the earth sino;s. 


Swarms of joys our bosoms give, 
Each harmonious as a bee ; 
In thy life alone we live. 
Evoe ! 

Evoe ! 
Bacchus ! Evan ! Evoe ! 


Another voice. 
Thou canst give to poverty 

Riches, blessing, and respect ; 
Make it proud as proud ones be ; 

Lift its horn, its head erect. 
Folly is made wise by wine ; 

Yes ! than wisdom wiser still ; 
Fill up that cup of thine 

Fill ! fill ! fill ! 

Evoe ! 

&c., &c., &c. 

Single voice. 
Sympathy pervades thy breast, 

Sweet sympathy ; 
And thy griefs are calmed to rest 

So tranquilly. 
Blessedness is beaming o'er thee, 

Love's best prize is won ; 
There is not a grief before thee 

None ! none ! none ! 


&c., &c., c. 

Another voice. 
God of joy ! thou hast possessed us ; 

O leave us never ! 
God of joy ! that once hast blest us ; 

O bless us ever ! 


Death may come but melancholy 

Shall not life annoy : 
Joy ! for sorrow is but folly- 

Joy ! joy ! joy ! 

Evoe ! 

., & c ., & c . 

Single voice. 
Thou dost watch the holy light 

On love's own shrine, 
And if tears be ever bright, 

Those tears are thine. 
Thou canst fill life's chillness up 

With warmth divine : 
Fill with wine the glowing cup- 

Wine ! wine ! wine ! 

Evoe ! 

&c., &c., c. 

Another voice. 
Wine, says Eld, may be pernicious- 

Thai's both wise and true ; 
So may every feast delicious 

What is that to you ? 
Here's no priest be here no preachino- 

Press the goblet to your lip ; 
Trip the dance 'tis wiser teaching 

Trip ! trip ! trip ! 



Evoe ! 
Bacchus ! Evan ! Tivoe ! 

Evoe ! 

Bacchus ! fill the soul with glee ! 
Though the wintry snows may fall, 

Bring wine to me ! 
Wine to me, and wine to all ! 

Evoe ! 



Parnassz' vadon hegyeuel. 

NOT from Pindus' darksome mountain, 
Not from the Castalian fountain, 
Not from Tempe's desert valley, 
Do the heavenly Muses sally ; 
Vainly there ye seek to find them, 
Ages left their shades behind them. 

They were Muses wild and savage, 
Headed by a boor-Apollo : 
Time's regenerating ravage 

o O O 

Brought a better race to follow ; 
And our Muses, young and laughing, 
Dwell in vineyards of Tokay ; 
Ever there the grape-juice quaffing, 
Ever gratulant and gay. 

( 114) 


BORN 17/6. 

Csak te legy velein te szelid Camcena ! 
Itt is aldast hint kezed eletemre, 
'S a vadou tajek kideriilt virany lesz 
Gyonge dalodra. 




Emeld fel bibor kepedet. 

COME with thy purple smiles, and bring 

To nature quiet rest: 
Come, gentle light of eve, and fling 

The dew o'er nature's breast. 

Send to the weary eye repose 
And happy dreams to-night : 

And bid the veil of darkness close 
O'er holy love's delight. 

The rose-tree hides its fairest flowers 

While eve glides calmly by, 
And life's most bright and blessed hours 

Are hid in mystery. 

I have a secret but 'tis mine 
No word shall reach thine ear ; 

'Tis buried in my heart's own shrine, 
And lock'd in safety there. 

I will not tell my thought nor shame 

My maiden with a fear ; 
I will not tell my maiden's name 

Nor what I feel for her. 
i 2 


I told it to the silent moon, 
She saw my hour of bliss 

The tears of joy I shed the boon, 
The beauty and the kiss. 



Szep, szep az Elet Eszti ! 

SWEET is life, my Ernestine ! 
In the od'rous myrtle grove, 
In the arms of holy love, 
In Dione's, or in thine. 
Sweet is life, my Ernestine ! 
Some may fear lest wind and wave 
Delve for all their wealth a grave ; 
Some may heap Golconda's store, 
Ever adding more to more ; 
Warriors climb the slippery hill 
Crown'd by glory's citadel ;* 
Welcoming the Peans loud 
Victory wakens from the crowd ; 
But, with thee, my Ernestine, 
Yes ! with thee to live be mine. 
Silenced every worldly tone, 
O how sweet to live alone ! 
Seeing wishing not to see 
Aught but those bright smiles of thine ; 

* Villogjon a' dicsoseg' 
Polczuu Napolconnal, 


Thee, my love and only thee 
Hearing nought but thy soft breathing, 
Or thy gentle rustling, wreathing 
Little flowers of love for me. 



Nezzd a' taiicz' nemeit, mint festik jatszi ecsettel. 

LOOK at the dance ! You may trace in its playful and 
varying changes 

National manners and habits the feelings and thoughts of 
the people. 

First, see the German come forward and, waltzing three 
paces, he seizes 

Her whom he loves, and he gracefully wheels her in light- 
footed circle : 

Simple and quiet in all things his very enjoyments are 
tranquil : 

One and one only he claims if he love her, his love will 
be faithful. 

Giddy and graceful and vain, comes the Frenchman, and, 
ogling and sporting, 

Flits from one maid to another to this and to that his 
hand proffers : 

Fiery and rash as a child, like a child he is light and capri- 
cious ; 

Changes his mistress at will, and humours his fancy till 

Whelmed in a passionate storm, the Magyar's turbulent 

Blends in the dance all the heat of his struggling and glow- 
ing affection, 


Like a sweet breeze and his soul-piercing softness insi- 

All that is hid in the depths of his gen'rous and love-flow- 
ing spirit. 

Link'd and dissevered, he leads or is led by the lovely 
Hungarian ; 

Dances alone in his joy, while all the earth trembles de- 

This is the warrior's dance, which Kinysi, with blood- 
spotted weapons, 

Danced with his followers around the heaps of his enemies 

Here are no rules of art, no masters of science assembled ; 

This is her own bright law 'tis fancy's own free-pinion'd 

Let ev'ry man who is born to the dance of the Magyar be 
joyful ; 

Strength and vigor are his, inspiring his spirit with firm- 



Meg most teljes orczaiiiion. 

UPON two cheeks of sunny glow 
Two lovely living roses grow ; 
While flung o'er alabaster rocks 
I see thy wandering auburn locks. 

A paradise is round me, where 
All, all is smiling, bright, and fair : 
I am the heir of joy. Advance, 
O heart ! to thine inheritance. 

From laughing love and song and jest, 
From blessing, I would fain be blest : 
Bliss flaps my soul on every breeze, 
And am I blest with thoughts like these ? 


I breathe the balmy breath of youth, 
1 have no cause for restless ruth ; 
Why should I not enjoy the peace 
Which sooths our mortal recklessness ? 

The dove that flits about the groves, 
Is he not blest ? He loves, he loves ; 
And wheresoe'er he takes his flight, 
A sweet voice sooths him to delight. 



Partra szullottam. Levonoin vitorlam'. 

WHAT though the waves roll awfully before me 
Quicksands and tempests from the Ocean border 
Calmly I launch me, all my sails unfurling, 
Laughing at danger. 

Peace has returned, I drop my quiet anchor, 
Beautiful visions have no power to charm me 
Welcome the wanderer to thy cheerful bosom, 
Land of retirement ! 

Are not my meadows verdant as Tarentum ? 
Are not my fields as lovely as Larissa ? 
Flows not the Tiber with majestic beaming 
Through my dark forest ? 

Have I not vines and golden corn-ears dancing 
In the gay winds, and doth not heavenly freedom 
Dwell in my dwelling? Yes! the gods have given me 
All I could envy. 

Fate may indulge its infinite caprices. 
Sheltered from want, unconquerable courage 
Trains me to look secure, serene, contented, 
Up to the heavens. 


Thou, thou, my lyre ! if thou dispense thy blessings 
Bright on the tortuous pathway of existence, 
Deserts shall smile, wastes wax them into gladness, 
Charm'd by thy music. 

Place me among the eternal snows of Greenland, 
Place me among the burning sands of Zaara, 
There shall your bosoms warm me, gentle Muses, 
Here your breath freshen. 



A v tavasz, rozsas kebelet kitarva. 

SPRING, gentle Spring, the rose's breast unfolding, 
Sinks in light dews upon the emerald meadows, 
While round his ringlets happy zephyrs playing, 

Drink of their fragrance. 

O'er all the earth he spreads birth-giving ether, 
Waking to life what wintry cold had frozen, 
Calling to joy, and budding into being, 

Countless creations. 

Flora attends him with her smiles of beauty, 
Scattering before him violets and roses ; 
Laughter and love and bliss, and all the graces, 

Follow his footsteps. 

I too, e'en I, my festal hymn am pouring ; 

I too have twined a wreath for thee, blest Emma ! 

'Tis for thy breast 'tis beautiful as thou art 

And as both fleeting. 

( 125 ) 


BORN 1784. 

Az 6rezesnek 
Szentelem en ezt. 




Oh Dryas ! Keggyel mosolyogj ezen kis. 

DRYADS ! smile sweetly on the tree I planted ; 
Call forth its blossoms shelter it from tempests ; 
I have that tree to Sympathy devoted ; 

Smile on the tribute. 

Smile, ye good angels ! Fling your deeds of virtue 
On the uncovered bosom of misfortune ; 
Fling your soft arms of charity around it; 

To your breast press it. 



Ah melly borongo felleg eraelkcdik. 

WHAT a black cloud is gathering in heaven's dome ! 
From the blue dome the fierce rain dashes downward, 
And the Septentrion furies, rushing wildly, 
Visit with ruin all earth's loveliest things. 

Lo ! the rose droops upon its wounded stem 
The rude shower breaks the beautiful cup of odours 
Hung on the emerald pillar and thejilies 
Bend down their snowy heads, and weep, and die. 

E'en the sweet solitary violet, crush'd, 
Scatters no more its wonted dews of fragrance 
O'er the dark forest turf. All, all departed, 
All the transporting charms of early spring. 



DEEP in the stillness of the solemn forest 
Peace sings her hymns of solitude, Apollo ! 
While the light zephyrs, listening to the music, 

Glide along slowly. 

Through the green boughs what friendly spirits vibrate 
Round the old roots what gentle streamlets murmur ! 
Brightening with influence full of joy and beauty 

Life and its struggles. 

I, when I look upon those lovely meadows 
Streams full of light and hymn-impassioned songsters- 
Forests and flowrets feel that woe's oppression 

Smites me no longer. 

Shades of the forest ! to your calm recesses 

Pride never wends, nor passion. When the branches 

Of your green trees are fluttering in the breezes, 

Bear me their freshness. 

KM 1 1,1 US BUCZl. 129 


Rcttenthetetlen lelked' az erezes'. 

ONWARD! still onward ! in the path of duty, 
On to the goal guard every sacred feeling. 
What though the deeds of most heroic virtue, 
Impudent folly tarnish with her slander ? 

Bear thee on boldly Virtue's gloomiest cypress 
Shading, shall shield thee. Hate may hide thy greatness, 
Envy torment thee, but thy patriot actions, 
Blessing thy country, shall endure for ever. 

Think not that envy can destroy the temple 
Rear'd to thy glory. Merit wreathes the garland 
Fated for thee ; mankind shall be thy judges, 
Covering thy name with an undying honour.. 



BORN 1785. 

All, joj, 's ringassd-el e' nagy kinokat. 




Szeliden, mint a' szep esttunemeny. 

THOU smilest on me like an evening ray, 

Or like the lovely Eos. When thou smilest, 

All fate's dark enmity thou reconcilest, 

And grief and sighing sadness glide away. 

My house was whelmed in desolate decay, 

Midst mists, and storms, and torrents. Art thou nigh me ? 

For time brings gloomy thoughts as time flits by me, 

And my heart is a field of battle-fray. 

Come, cradle all my sorrows into rest ! 

And, like Endymion, in his rosy garden 

Bless me with dreams, and be mine angel warden, 

As Cynthia his ; and as that waking boy 

Found himself breathing into Dian's breast, 

So be thou mine mine own sweet bride and joy ! 

K 2 



Szoktlelve, mint hullam kozt a' halak. 

JOYOUS as the wild squirrel in the forest, 

Or in the dancing waves the silver eel, 

Till thou, to the bright heaven, in which thou soarest, 

Didst fascinate my footsteps, Isabel ! 

O, I was happy now, alas ! thou pourest 

A stream of sorrow into my heart's well ; 

And hill and valley's echoes wake the sorest 

Of all the pangs of grief ineffable, 

That thou thou art another's that sad thought 

Breaks up my heart and o'er my being flings 

The deepest clouds of darkness they have brought 

Garlands of flowers to crown thee at the shrine 

Of Hymen. Joy the marriage-anthem sings- 

Yet they have brought thee not a love like mine. 



Egy titkos ah felein, 's egy clpirulat. 

I HEARD a gentle breathing, like a sigh, 

I saw a quiet smiling, like the dawn, 

A bosom heaving 'neath th' o'ershadowing lawn, 

Half hidden, half unveil'd. A raptur'd cry 

Broke from me " Yes ! 'tis thou :" and then I flung 

My arms around thee, and in passionate bliss 

Joy followed joy, and kiss gave way to kiss, 

And rapture fetter'd both and thus she sung : 

" Thou I so long have sought for, thou art mine ; 

Thine is the maiden's sweetest kiss, and thine 

All that the maiden's heart and soul possess." 

I listen' d and such flutterings of delight 

Shook all my senses, I was silent quite 

Thoughts overpower'd expression. Could they less ? 



Hallgatsz, 's csak sdhajtasid Icngenek. 

THOU art mute, all but thy sighing and the tear 

Rolls down thy cheek its sad and silent way ; 

And thou dost turn to mortal men, and say, 

" Pour out your sympathy, and sooth me here." 

Thou dreaming, hapless creature ! learn, that they 

Will turn on thee a cold and listless ear ; 

And thou thy gloomy pilgrimage mayst steer 

Through mists and storms and sorrows. They are gay, 

However dark thy grief ; no sympathy 

Is in their breasts. But come, come to me, 

Who am a mourner too and I will mourn 

With thee. Hath death distress'd thee ? Tell the name 

Of thy lost love I will repeat the same, 

And we will weep together o'er her urn. 

[This is the only poem in the Magyar language of which I 
remember to have seen an English translation. It will be found 
in Toldy's Handbuch der Ungrischen Poesie, Vol. II, p. 426.] 

( 135) 


BORN 1/86. 

When, wandering in Hungaria's land, 
I sought a firm and friendly hand 

To guide me through the path unknown 
I, 'inidst the Magyar Muses' throng, 
Leading the Magyar sons of song, 

Heard would I could resound ! thine own. 




Hogyan tehat ? 

Enthusiast. " Is't thus ? 
And if not thus, say how? 
For a wild fire is burning in my bosom, 
Which I can quench not which I cannot guide. 
I strive to build the fair to build the fairest 
Upon the wise as thou would teach me ; I 
Would blend my spirit and my heart in one, 
Making my hymn both beautiful and strong ; 
That it may teach and teaching, may transport 
With ecstacy. I ask, with prayerful tear, 
My way to fame's bright goal : thou hast the crown 
Teach me to win and wear it I beseech thee, 
W T ith passionate longings I beseech thee say, 
Say thus? Ah, no! 'tis sweet but not successful, 
I cannot reach the bourn and life to me 
Is melancholy waste of life!" 

Philos. " Give thy feelings ample room, 
Time shall soon disperse their gloom. 
When bound in snows the wild-stream leaves its bed 
Murmuring ; and as it maddens bears along 
Rocks, mud, and forest-branches, cans't thou see 
Young flowers, and the blue heaven upon its face ? 


Thou turns't away in sadness from its waves 
So troubled for 'tis purity that charms, 
And quiet. Think on this, and be at rest. 
The muse is a soft maiden, whose bright wand, 
Whose odorous ringlets, flinging light around, 
Thy lips may kiss. She is not wooed by fierceness, 
But turns, deep blushing, to her own sweet self, 
From the wild turbulent grasp of stormy thought. 

" Glow but glow not with blind and savage heat ; 
Approach, with gentleness, and she will wake 
Her own responses from thy feeling breast ; 
Her bright eye will enkindle loveliest light. 
Thy soul transporting. Gently, gently come, 
And she shall press thee to her breast that breast 
So soft, so warm and gently kiss her lips; 
Her breath shall then impregnate thee her fires 
Bear thee aloft above a thousand stars, 
And summon from thy soul harmonious songs.'* 



Sirtal, Anyam, egykor ertem. 

MOTHER ! dost weep that thy boy's right hand 
Hath taken a sword for his father-land ? 
Mother ! where should the brave one be 
But in the ranks of bravery ? 

Mother ! and was it not sad to leave 
Mine own sweet maiden alone to grieve ? 
Julia ! where should the brave one be 
But in the ranks of bravery ? 

Mother ! if thou in death were laid, 
Julia ! if thou were a treacherous maid ; 
O then it were well that the brave should be 
In the front ranks of bravery. 

Mother ! the thought brings heavy tears, 
And I look round on my youth's compeers ; 
They have their griefs and loves like me, 
Touching the brave in their bravery. 


Mother ! my guardian ! O be still ; 
Maiden ! let hope thy bosom fill ; 
Kiral* and country ! how sweet to be 
Battling for both in bravery ! 

Bravery aye and victory's hand 
Shall wreath my Sakif with golden band 
And in the camp the shout shall be, 
O ! how he fought for liberty ! 

* Kiral King. 

t Saki the French military cap. 




Olvasom a' regular, mint kcll czt irui a 's amazt is. 

MANY a rule have I read of this way of writing and t'other, 
Chilling and harassing dogmas that dry up the sources 

of thought. 

Give me the burst of the heart, the spirit's emphatic out- 
pourings ; 
They can awaken my soul, and bid the tear gush from 

mine eye. 
Read and inquire 'tis wise to learn the commandments; 

then open 

The sluice of thy soul, and its streams shall flow forth in 
their glory and power. 


BORN 1790. 

Par nobile fratrum. 

Mincleu orom ban got sziil, a' bu 's fajdalom ismet, 
A' kikclet' zoldjen zeng philomela panaszt. 

Ott, hoi ero 's szerelera paviil, nines messze az enek : 
A* nyelv dalra fakad, hogya vezerli szived. 




DARK-VESTED spirits 
Hidden in vapours, 
Point out and fashion 
Man's gloomy journey ; 
Thro' his life's myst'ries, 
Heartless and silent, 
Over his path- way 
Sharp thorns they scatter, 
And with cold grasp 
They fling the poor mortal 
In the rough ocean 
Of time's dreary desert. 
Loud-foaming billows, 
Stormy winds struggling, 
Whelming and whirling 
Life's little bark ; 
Now on the wave-top 
Flung in their fury, 
Up to the clouds ; 
Now in abysses 
Yawning destructions 
Deep as the grave : 
Fearful the struggle 


With furies unbridled, 
Wresting and wrestling 
In the fierce storm. 
Now with swoln bosom 
Drives he for land, 
Out of the darkness 
Dawning but distant, 
Hope with her smiles 
Looks from the strand. 
Lo ! an Aurora, 
Promising beauty, 
Pours out bright dew-drops 
Fluttering with bliss ; 
Nay ! granite mountains, 
Spurn back the ocean : 
Warm is the contest 
Back with the waves 
And they roll fiercer, 
While with strong passion 
Stronger and stronger 
Strives the poor swimmer ; 
One drop*of water, 
Fresh, pure, and sparkling, 
One and one only, 
Vainly to reach. 
Serpents cling round him, 
Laughing like demons 
Most when he writhes ; 
Doubts dreary tempests 


Rattling above him 
Chase the sweet dreamings 
Justice and virtue 
Waked in the frozen 
Shrines of his soul. 
Wild he looks round 
On the desolate world. 
Shadows attend him 
Beckoning and trembling, 
Mists, glooms, and terrors, 
Flit o'er the waste. 
One ray of lightning 
Now and then brightning 
O'er his griefs' gloom ; 
When his eyes weeping 
In the vast void 
Sees hope-directed 

The tomb. 
Light is descending; 
See, from the clouds, 
Dovelets attending, 
A goddess appears ! 
Waked by her glances, 
Beautiful spirits 
Flit in their transports 
Through the gay scene ; 
Dew-drops of heaven 
Shine in her eyes, 
Seraphs of brightness 


Bend from the skies, 
And Edens of bliss 
Out of deserts arise. 
The winds sport together, 
In gentleness blending 
O'er flower-sprinkled fields 
Their cups full of honey, 
Their lips of perfume, 
They dream of delight ; 
All nature is laughing, 
And e'en the grave's height 
Has its bloom. 
Man waxes divine, 
And is wafted above ; 
In spring and in beauty, 
In brightness and virtue, 
He clasps to his bosom 
Young nature in love. 
He feels that his lot 
Is immortal ; the fire 
Of the Godhead within him 
Is burning still burning, 
And thought ever turning 
To prospects eternal, 
Eternal desire. 
His dust may not waken 
Till heavenly breath 
Has melted the fetters 
Of darkness and death. 


He lies on the border, 
Faint helpless till fancy, 
That sweet mate of reason, 
Hath broken his fetters, 
And led him to light. 
And still let her flight 
Be unbridled beyond 
The precincts of vision, 
Her glories still weaving 
In beauty and light. 



Gyongen nugatva jo anyank' oleben. 

MID smiling friends and sports, far, far from sorrow, 
Hanging around a mother's lap, we play 

In the bright sunshine of our childhood's morrow, 
Nor dream of any darker future day : 

We smile on smiling hours that pass, and borrow 
No gloom from all the mists that dim our way ; 

But rise and fall on every floating wave, 

And with each image sweet communion have. 

Each blessed sunbeam in that glorious time 
Wakes us to never-palling jests and joys; 

And transport in those days, unstained by crime, 
Flings all around her, roses nor annoys 

Our innocent paths with pains. Though not sublime, 
Yet sweet as honey dew, the hours when boys 

Dance on the emerald grave-heaps of the dead, 

And upward, heavenward, all their footsteps tread. 

And now the bud of lovely Hope is bursting, 
And a new life its streams of passion pours ; 

And, like sweet, shadowed dreams, which fancy nurs'd in 
Our parents' bosoms, all the household shores 



Which seemed so bright and beautiful at first, in 

Dimness are shaded. Yet the spirit soars 
To something far above its narrow cell, 
And seeks with brighter thoughts than earth's to dwell. 

There is an impulse bidding us break through 
Our prison's bounds : a world before us lies 

Gladdened with glories fascinating, new, 
And fragrant flow'rs and lovely fantasies : 

So the soul waxes strong, and to pursue 
Its noble destiny and high emprise 

Will wrestle with all foes all storms will meet, 

Crushing all disappointments 'neath its feet. 

The spirit feels its dignity of birth 

And destination, in the mighty strife 
It holds with all the storminess of earth : 

It bends not to the yoke of mortal life, 
But strives at something greater feels a dearth 

In worldly luxury in aspirings rife 
It mounts on mightier wings than time's and flies 
To heights which o'er heaven's highest torches rise. 

It clads itself in purple like the morn's, 

And walks in its imperial dignity 
Dives to the deepest seats of thought adorns 

The very dreamings which around us lie- 
Wakes images of light and beauty scorns 

Th' infirmities of human destiny, 


Pointing to hope's own pyramid sublime 

A watch-tower o'er the waves and storms of time. 

First, youth's pure love develops the high source 

Of intellect within him gives it wings 
Heavenward to urge its passion-prompted course. 

While to his breast the lovely loved-one clings, 
Into one maddening moment is the force 

Of all existence flune and angel-win^s 

O O O 

Are borrowed for a time while Hymen's breeze 
Wafts two united spirits' harmonies. 

And so sweet chains surround us till we die, 
And when we die, we sleep we toil, we rest : 

The visions of life's morning-twilight fly 

Grief cools the life-blood boiling in our breast 

The buds are blown away the fruit is nigh 
And man by time's strong urgency is press'd. 

On, on to labor duty must be heard ; 

She speaks in majesty the mighty word, 

" Country !" the invaders on her bosom tread : 
Up to the field he stands among the brave ; 

His cheeks with freedom's roseate glow are red, 
And he is there to sink, or there to save. 

Amidst the ghastly forms of death, no dread 
Is his indifferent if a hero's grave 

Or garland wait him if he dies, or lives, 

Some brighter pledge he to the future gives. 


Trembles ? He trembles as the granite trembles, 
Lashed by the waves ; for the courageous heart 

Bastions of brass around its shrines assembles, 
Which snap or spurn away the sharpest dart. 

Duty becomes delight, toil joy resembles, 
And health and bliss are labor's better part ; 

While love for lovely women and for friend 

Friendship and tenderness for children blend, 

Blend in a beauteous light. Creation's power 
Flings radiance on the soul, and leads it on, 

Firm as a column, through its mortal hour, 
Stretching for higher recompense. Anon 

Both heaven and earth their benedictions shower 
On that which is their kindred, and hath won 

Their own reflection while its torch will light 

Through the world's darkness and its own dark night. 

So speed we so we sink so disappear 
So fades our little lamp and so we fade. 

Winter will scatter snow-storms on our bier, 

And midnight mantle darkness round our head 

And graves will yawn and death, with frown austere, 
Fill up our hearts with ashes of the dead 

And joy will be a grief and lust will pall 

And all be tasteless, hopeless heartless all. 

And all life's painted shadows disappear, 
While solitude puts out her frozen hand 


To lead us, hapless, to that unknown sphere 
Which ignorance has called the promised land, 

And blindness, peace. Cold mistiness is there, 
Clouding around that superhuman band 

Which shines like moonlight rays upon the waves, 

And rears green altars over mouldering graves. 

It may be nay ! it is a sleep as sweet 
As ever infant slept. 'Tis more : to hope 

Is nothing confidence and faith are meet 
For mortals : there is an eternal scope 

For immortality. When death we greet, 
We greet a resurrection and we ope 

Heaven's mansions, making room for other mortals 

As death wafts our poor ashes through life's portals. 



Minden orom hangot sziil, a* bu 's fajdalom ismet. 

JOY has its voice so has grief ! There are eloquent tears ; 

and deep sorrows 
Melt into songs in the fields which grow green the sweet 

nightingale sings ; 
Genius arid Love never meet but the spirit of music is near 

them ; 
When the heart speaks, lend thine ear lend thine ear, for 

its language is song. 

( 153 ) 


BORN 1790, 

Nektek szent legyen e' lant : 'Amor, Gratia, Phoebus. 
Hangjat Phoebus ada, tiizit 'Amor, Gratia bajat. 




Szep Lenka var a' part felett. 

HE lingers on the ocean shore, 

The seaman in his boat ; 
The water-spirit's music o'er 

The ruffled wave doth float. 
" Maiden of beauty ! counselled be, 
The tempest wakes from out the sea." 

" I may not stay,*' the maiden cried, 
" Tho' loud the tempest blow; 

That meadow on the water side 
That cottage bids me go. 

That shady grove, that murmurs near, 

Invites me he I love is there." 

" The wave is high the storm is loud, 
And dangers rise anon." 

" But hope sits smiling on the cloud, 
Storms drive the vessel on. 

And joy and sorrow both convey 

Man's mortal bark along its way." 

Into the seaman's boat she stept, 
The helm the seaman took ; 

The storming billows fiercely swept, 
And all the horizon shook. 


The maiden spoke " Ye fears, be gone ! 
The storm-wind drives the vessel on." 

" O maiden ! darker is the sky, 

And fiercer is the wind ; 
Alas ! there is no harbour nigh, 

O ' 

No refuge can we find. 
A whirlpool is the angry sea, 
It will engulph both thee and me." 

" No, seaman ! fortune always shone 

And still will shine on me ; 
Soon will the stormy clouds be gone, 

And sunbeams calm the sea, 
And evening bring the promised dove, 
And evening guide me to my love." 

She turned her to the distant strand, 

(He stood upon the spot) 
In sweet delirium stretched her hand, 

And winds and waves forgot. 
So is love's spirit overfraught 
With love's intensity of thought. 

He stood a statue on the shore, 

A pale ice-hardened form : 
The billows battling more and more, 

And louder waxed the storm. 
Clouds waves, all mingled and the boat ? 
Its scattered planks asunder float. 


Where is she ? Ask the storm ! for he 

No single tear has shed ; 
And he ? Go ask the silent sea 

Its echoes answer " Dead !" 
I held communion with its waves, 
But could not find the lovers' graves. 




Ultem csolnakomban. 

O'ER th' unsteady wavelets 

I my boat sped, 
Heard the crane's wing; fluttering 

o o 

Over my head ; 
Thou, heaven's pilgrim, flying 

O'er land and sea, 
Would it were my privilege 

To fly with thee. 

Wisely art thou seeking 

Some fairer clime, 
Springtide's vernal beauties, 

Summer's bright time ; 
Thy blest track I follow, 

With thee I roam, 
Seek a better country 

And a sweet home. 

Seek a home of sweetness 

'Neath heaven's blue, 
Where no winter darkens, 

No noisome dew : 


Where are lovely rainbows 
Made by hope bright, 

Morning waking morning, 
Glorious in light. 

Thro' the verdant branches, 

Soft west- winds sigh ; 
Near my hut a streamlet 

Glides gently by. 
Boat ! may God be with thee 

Thou stormy strand ! 
See my sweet one calls me, 

Waving her hand. 

O'er th' unsteady wavelets, 

I my boat sped, 
Heard the crane's wing fluttering 

Over my head ; 
Fly, thou heavenly pilgrim, 

O'er earth and sea, 
But my fate forbids me 

To fly with thee. 



COME, bright-eyed Fancy, smiling, and unlock me 

Those dreamy regions where thou reignest yet ; 
In thy bright cradle curtain me and rock me, 

As Venus rocks young Cupid, her sweet pet. 
As through life's dark and solitary forest 

I tread, surround me with thy balmy air ; 
Let the glad notes of melody thou pourest, 

Be like the nightingales' that warble there. 

Dreaming upon thy lap, I call the maiden 

Mine, who is mine no longer and am blest ; 
Dreaming upon thy lap though sorrow-laden, 

I find in silent tears the thought of rest. 
Thoti misery's burden wondrously dost lighten, 

And minglest joy with such creative power, 
That shadow'd doubts, to hope, to rapture, brighten, 

And patience dawns upon the troubled hour. 

A dark blue veil upon the future lowers, 

And hides my coming doom in vain I gaze ; 

While from my heart a flame of light uptowers, 
Flinging its radiance o'er departed days. 


The present's narrow limits swiftly widen, 
And joy drives sorrow from the path of life ; 

Sweet roses bloom beneath my feet unbidden, 
While beauty takes the seat of woe and strife. 

Then come the sylphids on their downy pinions ; 

Then bows Favonius from his cloudy throne ; 
Joy builds a shrine in the green earth's dominions, 

And I hang smiling o'er my loving one. 
So lives the butterfly amidst the blisses 

Of the fresh breeze enamour'd on his bliss ; 
So the sweet lips of balmy flowers he kisses, 

Flowers that give back again his eager kiss. 

( 161 ) 


BORN 1793 DIED 1820. 

Tovis kozt nyiltanak ibolyaid 

<S te dal hos battyukent zeugt-1 felettek, 

Sirtak sokan, sirtak mind kik szerettek, 

'S koran nemiiltak edes ajkaid. 

FeMjlad a' Helle nev' titkait, 

A' hosek tctti Pharufzkent vczettek, 

JVlagas zengtokbt'ii hxirjaid repedtek, 

'S csak a' sir szello sirja karjaid. 

Harmouiava lettek zengemenyid, 

A v szellemnek lelullt por-bilincse 

Uklozve hogy kounyet lobbe ne hincse. 

Szarnyakra keltek hajnallo remeiiyid 

Dagadt kebk'dbol szet folyt-cnekcd 

*S itt a' Hot) ott Muzsad font dijt neked. 





Tged iidvozlek, kegyes Isten Aszszouy. 

GODDESS benignant Hera's lovely daughter 
Hebe ! rewarder thou of deeds heroic 
Bride of Heracles he who in Olympus 
Gloriously won thee. 

Praise waits on thee who on the Gods outpourest 
Blessings thy nectar gives renewing beauty ; 
Kindling fresh life for him to whom thy goblet, 
Smiling, thou givest. 

Jove is immortal ; but as years roll onwards, 
Joyous he drinks of the perfumed ambrosia ; 
Nectar of heaven though by thy fair hand proffered, 
Zeus despiseth. 

Pour it for me, for me, beloved Goddess ! 
Give me some drops of thy delicious nectar j 
Joyful I'll wing me, for departure ready, 
E'en in youth's spring-time. 



I WAS a boy, and a beautiful maid was my friend and 

companion ; 
Hers was I then but no passion had yet been aroused in 

our breasts. 
Love found us sporting, and flung his smiles and his 

glances as wonted. 


ert uv ItptXwv y.ovoav riva, xai //,' e^J/ 
'A Kopa, ov Se irvfa 'r l >r'&6(s.s' iv KpaS*a. 
8' o Tra'i/; KJvrpiSo?, KOU cru/x.7ra/<70W7< 


EGY lyanynak voltam gyermek lettemre baratja, 

'S 6 az eny^m : sziviink nem tuda semmi tlizet. 
Kuprisz gyermeke jatszva talalt's krt nyajasan egykor : 

* The Greek compositions of Toth have been much admired, 
and I take this occasion to give the original of one of them, with 
his Magyar version. 

M 2 


" Friends ! may a stranger," he said " may a stranger 

take part in your sports ?" 
" Come !" cried we both ; but the sports that he taught us 

were speedily alter' d ; 
Loving together we played, but childish companions no 


(i\>v TOV ^cub , o Trayvia. Koivoi 

Engednok koztiink jatszani ot idegent. 
Elfogad6k : de azonnal 6 uj jat^kra tanitott, 
%S jatszank mar szeretok, nem csupa tarsak egyiitt. 

( 165 ) 


BORN 1793. 

Csak in6hkeiit izk'ld mezet e' gyengc viragnak. 




THERE are dark clouds upgathered in the heavens, 

And the full moon can hardly look them through ; 

All nature sleeps, wrapp'd round in misty dew, 

And the stars shine not, while in slumber's arms 

All find repose ; life's heavy load forgot. 

All ? No ! I in the green shade slumber not ; 

For a transporting hope holds all my soul, 
Round me the fragrant clouds of Jasmines roll. 
'Twas here 'twas here she spoke at eventide ; 
Here said, Farewell ! And will she come again 
When fair Chitona fills her lamp ? In vain 
I wait that lamp is filled. Where tarries she ? 
Impatience, weary of her lingering, stands, 
And doubt comes on the mind o'erwhelmingly. 

She comes ! she comes ! I hear the rustling leaves; 
Nay, 'twas the trembling which my sighs awaken, 
As gliding thro' the branches idly shaken ; 
They rouse delusive thought, which only grieves. 
What, what forbids her to these arms to flee ! 
Why would she make of love a mockery ? 
Why will she trifle with my misery ? Why ? 
O ye warm-breathings of my bosom plaints 
Of deepest-drawn emotion hasten fly 


Break on her proud repose arouse and melt 
Her frozen sympathies awake, inspire 
The sleeping passion, the concealed desire, 
And make her feel what I so long have felt. 

What ! do I feel those round and beauteous arms, 
White as the snows, enfolding me ? 'Tis thou ! 
thou art pouring streams of transport now, 
And my heart beats 'gainst thine how it beats ! 
The raptures of thy spirit mine repeats 
And misery flies from mine exalted brow. 

From thy sweet looks what peace and calmness flow ! 
The clouds are all departing, 
And from thine eyes a flame of beauty darting, 
Kindles the stars. The heaven's bright blue 


Smiles like a Lotos flower, and nightingales 

Float their rich harmonies, 

While odorous flow'r-sweets hang amidst the trees, 

And silver-voices, in tuned madrigals, 

Hang on the wings of love, breathing delight ; 

All joy and blessings all while this sweet place 

Anadiomen's temple is to lull 

Our spirits to a rest so beautiful, 

That here we may build up that temple bright 

Where love's best incense shall the altar grace. 



Kisded viragos. 

THE lovely Chloe plucks a rose 
From the gay garden where it grows, 
And from its cup a wild bee flew, 
Which from her lips drank honey too. 
I heard it whisper, " This perfume 
Is sweeter far than flow'ret's bloom." 
Be gone, I say, thou miscreant bee \ 
That odorous cup is not for thee ; 
Those lips are sacred unto one ; 
Those sweets distill'd for me alone. 



'Aon' berkcibeti zaj nelkii'l folyjon-cl cltcm. 

TRANQUIL my love shall glide o'er the pastures Aonian, 
Like to the crystal stream by verdant myrtles o'ershaded ; 
Tho' a dark cloud sometimes may spread o'er heaven its 

Love, like the sun, shall chase its fugitive darkness ; and 


Waiting the end, I'll look with cheerful eye on the future. 
Sinking at last in peace in the lovely arms of the maiden, 
Springs on my grave shall wake their ever-reviving 

Sweet forget-me-not shall bloom where my body reposes. 



Hogy sztfrhat villaiuot, bar mosolyogjon is, a' mcnny. 

THAT heaven with smiles sends lightning flashes out, 
No one who sees thy lips and eyes can doubt. 



THE spring is come ! the spring is come ! I heard the 

nightingale rejoice ; 
List to his warblings. deceit ! it was my Lollis' silver 


( 172) 


BORN 1800. 

Vorosmarty's Leistungen gehoren zu den merkwurdigstea Er- 
scheinungen in der neueru Ungrischen Litteratur. 

SCHEDEL, Iris, 1825, p, 207. 



Ho, vagy hab, vagy csillag remlik. 

IS'T snow, or star, or wavelet, 
In the valley's depth that plays ? 

'Tis neither but a meteor 
That sparkles that betrays. 

Neither snow, nor star, nor wavelet, 
Is crown'd with ringlet hair ; 

But a maiden crown'd with ringlets, 
Bathes in the streamlet there. 

With grace beyond expression 
She bows her lovely head ; 

Her hand holds up a flow'ret, 
By those sweet waters fed. 

The wind is whispering secrets 

Into that maiden's ear ; 
The branches trembling round her, 

Seem all attracted near. 

How swiftly would I bend me, 
Were I but one of these ! 

How fondly would I kiss her, 
Were I a heavenly breeze ! 


Around her beauteous members, 
Delighted fishes play ; 

The rivulet, hush'd to silence, 
Long tarries on its way. 

Still longer should I tarry, 
Were I that silent stream ; 

But midst those fish to revel, 
Would be the bliss supreme. 

Ne'er would I leave those waters, 
Where tread that maiden's feet ; 

But kiss and kiss untiring, 
And die in bliss so sweet. 

But how ! my eyes deceive me ; 

This dream tho' bright it be 
Is but a mortal likeness 

Of one less fair than she. 


As in her beauteous shadow, 
All earthly beauties fade ; 

So fades the maid's fair shadow, 
Before the fairer maid. 

'Twas but a feeble picture, 
'Twas but a shadow rude, 

That playing in the wavelets, 
In maiden beauty stood. 


Far lovelier in her sorrow, 

On the ocean strand afar, 
She stood of love and feelin<* 


The more than magic-star. 



Nema borogassal niogy az oskor' It-Ike, fulotted. 

ROUND thee the soul of the past in the shadowy vapors of 

Cserhalom ! wanders. Thou needst no pillars of bronze in 

thy memory ; 

Thou art a pillar thyself- a mountain of victory and battle. 
Nature thee reared in her might and her majesty building 
Piles o'er ephemeral dust. No fugitive record of mortals 
Thou, for thy head tovv'rs aloft, and will tow'r, through all 

ages undying 
Record and witness to tell of the fame of our valorous 

Arpad's dominions were peril'd in Solomon's dangerous 

rule-time ; 
Still it stood firm and unshaken in strength of unperish- 

ino- manhood's 


Heroes undaunted : and most in the happier days of their 

concord ; 
Countless their enemies' graves, as countless their enemies' 



Like a tall rock, that towers from the earth with a double- 

crown'd summit, 
Reaching to heav'n from the east and from west reachin^ 


upwards to heaven ; 
Sunshine and day on its sides, while its brow iso'erturban'd 

in darkness ; 
Round it the lightning plays till weary, like innocent 

childhood ; 
Fixed are its roots in the earth, in its greatness an( j p- ra n- 

7 O O 

deur reposing : 

Such was the land of Arpad, and the storms and the flash- 
ings of danger 

Roll'd unmolestingly by all harmless the rage and the 

Then with his armies went forth, like the light-swing beam 

7 O O O 

of the noontide, 
Solomon Kiral, with twain of the noblest and choicest of 

Bela's descendants wise Ge'za, and he of the battle-axe, 

Laszlo the terrible : both seemed bright as the blessing of 

O O 


Courage and power were theirs, and the union of tempe- 
rate prudence 

Shielded the land from the day of precipitate fall and per- 

Lingering is now the course of the struggle of Sajo and 
Mohacs ; 



Tears flow forth from the eyes of the noblest son of his 

Laszlo. Doth Laszlo tremble ? the brave, the terrible 

Laszl6 ? 
Cserhalom ! thy proud brow is the proudest summit of 


Prince of the Kunians, Ozul now where, with thy pas- 
sionate legions ? 

Backwards thy banners are blown with the breath of the 
north wind chilling : 

Thrice hath thy steed wheeled round he will not bear 
thee onward. 

Look ! for the birds of prey are screaming frightfully o'er 

Gathering together in crowds the famishing broods are 

Waiting to feed their fill of thy multitudinous warriors ; 

Lo ! how they hasten now ! for their glorious festival 

There, as the wolf invades the fold of the shepherd, and 

Plunders, ravages, raves, 'midst the terror-struck flocks, till 
the sheep-dogs 

Howl in the distance, the dogs with the spike-girded col- 
lars the shepherd 

Steps o'er the threshold, excited, the terrified robber pur- 


So in their murderous purpose the enemy came, and Nyerseg 
Ravaged. Their footsteps of violence crushed all the fruits 

of the Theiss, while 
Blood spouted forth on her sands. Bihar saw the terrible 

Saw 'twas too late : death sat on the cloom-cover'd brows 


of the valiant ; 
Grey-headed men o'er the dead sigh'd despairingly; all 

their life-currents 
Flow'd like a slow stream of bitterness. Babes on their 

cradles disorder'd,' 
Wept in their innocent woe ; their mothers, Oziil's cruel 

Led bound in cords : heavy chains they fetter'd on youths 

and on maidens, 

Driv'n into slavery slavery hopeless of any redemption. 
There was old Ernyei shorn of his fortune one treasure, 

one only ; 

She of the auburn hair Etelke Etelke the lovely : 
Nay ! not Elelke how hollow and heavy the sound of 

" Etelke ! 
" O, had I delved thy grave, had I made thee a bed on the 

Bosom of earth, I had known it ! If whelmed in the stream 

of the Danube, 
Borne on the fawn-color'd waters, pursued by an army of 

Still I had known it ! If, gather'd in desolate sadness and 


N 2 


Youths round thy death-couch were crowded, still, still 

Shall my spirit 

Sink in despair ? No ! I'll suffer and breathe resignation. 
Blessed be God! I look round me I look but mine 

eyes can see nothing. 
Loudly I call and I hear but the echoes. Tears fall on 

my bosom. 
Groaning I ask, Doth a God still dwell in the precincts of 

One who old Ernyei hears and pities ? Or, visiting 

Awfullv flings he his bolts at the sins which stand blazing 

/ O O 

before him ?" 
So mourned the wretched old man, and buckled about him 

his weapons, 
Trembling. The King rises up; and the fame-covered 

children of Bela 
On to the field 'twas in haste and in gloom they were 

girded for battle. 

Round the hill, like clouds, the hosts of Ozul were col- 
lected : 

He, 'neath gorgeous tent, was laid on magnificent carpets : 

Under his feet was his club ; at his head was the battle 
trumpet ; 

Stuck on his spear his cap ; but his sword to his side was 
belted ; 

Firm in his terrible hand the sheath : around him singers 


and dancers 


Sported, and spread the spoil ; while sad and beautiful 


Sung of Ozul's proud feats, and the horrible days of car- 

Bonger's son alone, the stately one, Arbocz, scornful 
Stood in the crowd, and flung his hate and his pride around 

He, like the eagle watching the timorous brood, seems to 

Most when most longing to pounce on the prey. In the 

Rapture of joy and of fear in the circle he stood, .where 

Fair as a statue of marble, Etelke, the brown-hair'd, the 

Near'd. She looked round, if the dust of the plain by the 

army of Laszlo 
Rose if her father were there with the well-known, the 

wind-flapping banners. 
All, all was silence all silence except the loud tones of 

the mirthful 
Girdling thy limits, Cserhalom ! and echo returned the 

Laszlo appear'd not then the wind-flapping banner ap- 

pear'd not, 
Held by her father aloft : but, many a youthful one greet- 

Arbocz approached, whose eye was still tixed on the face of 
the maiden. 


First was the silence broke by the voice of the dark-eyed 
Kodor : 

" Beauteous is the swan, when calmly from heaven de- 

Towards his well-loved home from foreign and distant 
waters : 

Gracefully glides he on o'er his natural lake, while above him 

* ~ 

Moon and stars scatter round their exquisite light-rays of 

Thou, O Bonger's fortunate son ! the maiden is far more 
lovely ; 

Whiter her breast than the snowy down of the swan's 
snowy bosom. 

See, she weeps, she weeps. Go, Arbocz the tears of the 

Dry ; on her brows sits hot sweat and see, for her fore- 
head is burning." 

Frowningly look'd the son of Bonger, the stately one, 
Arbocz : 

" Light-lhoughled Kodor ! enough of such sportive and 
frivolous language ; 

Words such as thine may provoke I can bear them an 
instant no longer." 

Kodor retired ; but there came a legion of boisterous com- 
rades : 

One thus laughingly spake : " Arbocz, I pray, if thou love 

Sell me one smile of the prisoner. She turns how 
lovely her motions ! 


Covering her brow what a languishing look! what a 

beautiful figure ! 
Exquisite grace when she stirs ! 'tis the beautiful bend of 

the wavelet. 
Speaks she : Ten pieces of gold would I give for each 

word that she utters. 
Give me her smile, and I'll give thee my bow with the 

costly adornings." 
" Arbocz," another cried " thou foolish one ! leave me 

an instant 
Resting beneath the shade of her auburn hair, and my 


More shall joy than to steal the pearls of a thousand oceans." 
Then a third appear'd and began : " Thou art far too 

flighty ; 

J alone deserve an exquisite word to utter. 
Maiden ! thou dost right well not to hide thy feet so lovely ; 
Beautiful they as the piles of the foam which the wind 

awakens : 
Happy indeed were I, could 1 bow me down and kiss 


May I not watch the print of her exquisite footsteps, Ar- 
bocz ? 
Prints she leaves in the sands ; on my shield I'll engrave 

them, and bear them 
Over the earth till I find a maiden whose foot-print shall 

match them." 

Dember the strong, Czika's son, was of all the most met- 
tlesome youth there ; 


Rosy his cheeks, while his locks fell in light-color'd shocks 

on his shoulders ; 

Slender and tall was his form ; his glance was a sharp- 
pointed dagger ; 
Stormy his soul when the flame flashed forth of the good 

and the lovely. 
Forward he sprung saw the maid was astounded and 

eloquent language 
Burst unprepared from his lips : " Heaven certainly means 

to chastise thee, 
Arbocz, who stealest its gems or the maid steals its beauty 

from heaven 
Punished on earth for a while. No woman e'er bore such 

a beauty ; 

Milk never fed her ; she drank alone the ambrosia of Eden. 
Breezes play timidly round her, and exquisite dews of the 


Damp her fair cheeks, which are fairer aye, fairer by far, 

than Aurora's, 
Aurora's that blush with deep hues of shame and of jealousy 



Look on her eye it has nought that is earthly 'tis like a 

black fragment 
Torn from the midnight, and flung on the sun's burning 

centre. Its glory 
Not brighter than that of her glances. Speak, Arbocz ! 

from morning I'll pray thee ; 
Bring thee the sun and the torches of heaven to purchase 

the maiden : 


She is my life-giving day-light beyond her all shadows 

and darkness 
Darkness and nothingness all." But the maiden stood 

trembling in sorrow. 


Arbocz towVd up erect o'er the crowd ; he look'd on them 
fiercely ; 

Half unsheath'd his sword while he spoke : " Are ye more ? 
Have ye finish'd ? 

Babblers ! what would ye ? Have I have I interrupted 
your pleasures ? 

Why will ye weary the ears with your childish and spirit- 
less prattle ? 

Fling yourselves off far too long have I borne ye : and, 
idle ones ! listen : 

One aye, one single word more of such insolent jeers, 
and 'twere better, 

Far better, the jeerer from birth had been blind and been 
dumb ; for I'll smite him 

With blindness and speechlessness here on the spot where 
he sports with his insults." 

Said and the youths gather'd round the intemperate, pas- 
sionate stonner : 

Dember held fast his sword. Arbocz his harangue had but 

When the proud Ozul came forward, and glanced at the 
maiden : 

" Truly, 'twas not in vain Arbocz in the battle-tents tarried ; 

He guards a beautiful treasure : but list to the word of 
Oziil now, 


Give the maiden to me and instead, take my daughter, 

young Zeje ; 

Rich is she in song, and bright as the brightest starlet; 
Softer is she than dew and never has slept on man's 

Five good battle steeds of the strongest, swiftest, and 

Saddled, with gold and with riches caparison'd, cheerfully 

give I. 
This yes, and more, will I give to the fortunate hero who 

wins her." 

Swift did Bonger's son, the stately one, Arbocz, answer : 
" Victory-crownM Ozul ! I give thee all thanks and all 

honor ; 
Great is thy favor to me to me, last and least of thy 

Offering thy Zeje. Forgive my rejection : in vain from 

the maiden 
Strive I to tear my heart ; my heart she hath steadfastly 


Noble thy gifts, I own ; thy presents well worthy of princes ; 
Yet, could thy battle steeds fly as swift as the swift winds 

of heaven 
Were the trappings of gold pluck'd forth from the stars of 

the concave, 

Dazzling and glorious in vain were they weigh'd in ex- 
change for the maiden. 
If ever dishearten'd in battle thou h'nd me, produce her 

my courage 


Will wake and be worthy of thee." Thus Arbocz. Then 

answer'd the hero, 
" True, thou art proud ; but thy pride shall enkindle no 

hatred towards thee : 
Still, if thou long for the strife, being far more imprudent 

than valiant, 
Know that my arm shall o'erwhelm thee, and give the fair 

maid to my servant." 
" Never !" cried Arbocz and, stinging with passion, he 

started and seized his 
Sword, while his rage brought blood to his eye-balls, glaring 

with fury. 

Ozul withdrew with the youths. And such were the plea- 
sant discussions 
Gathering the people together. By Ernyei's trump-call 

Solomon's armies came : in might with the troops of the 

Geza was there, and the mighty one, Laszlo : in furious 

Pour'd they, a river resistless, o'er Bihar's all desolate 

Arbocz grew calm at last, though vexation was rife within 

o * o 

him : 

Spreading round him a mantle light, o'er his shield the 
striped skin of the tiger, 

Then he dried the tears of the maiden with gentle endear- 
ment ; 


Low at her feet he sat, pouring words of love and of com- 

Once did the maiden ope her pure and rose-tinged lips, 

Breathed such beautiful tones, that the very breezes caught 
them : 

" Hero ! thou wert begot by a strong and generous father ; 

Born of a joyous mother at morning's loveliest dawning. 

Thou, thou didst grieve me not; thou lettedst not others 
grieve me ; 

Soothing the prisoner's pang, and easing the chains of 

So, when I utter prayer, and sink at the Deity's footstool, 

All thy fondest hopes shall mingle with my petitions. 

Thee would I preserve in the bloody perils of battle ; 

Thee, from the edge of the sword. Let thy destiny keep 
thee from peril. 

Hither, O hither, approach not. The lioness rearing her 
cubs, the 

Dragon that wastes the south, are milder when raging in 

Than the herd of the three-crown'd hill, than the fruitful 
sons of Hunnia. 

He rushes they all arise the youth are gather'd toge- 
ther ; 

Love's very wreaths forgot in that fearful hour of danger. 

Power, powerful though it be, by a mightier power is van- 
quish'd : 


Aggression but calls up more terrible aggression. 


Prince of the battle-axe he, the dreadful and terrible 

Laszl6 he only he goes with his army to fight and to 

Arbocz, behold ! Well I know the troops of Ozul came to 

Perchance thou dost curse me while I fain would find thee 

a shelter of safety. 
Fly ! fly ! I tell thee aye, fly as far as thou canst lest the 

Cserhalom swallow thee up with the hosts of the overthrown 


Crush'd, blown away in the dust, by Solomon's far-spread- 
ing army. 
Come, rather lead me to dwell in the far distant hall of my 

father : 
He, white-hair'd old man, tears his hair in his sadness 

and sorrow. 
Come when he sees us approach, he'll thank thee with 

tears O believe me ! 
Thank thee with tears who restorest his daughter and 

cheerfully give thee 
All that thou wilt to redeem me. Thy path is before thee 

all darkness : 
Stumbles thy war-steed there : it is cover'd with heaps of 

the dying : 
Birds of prey hover o'er. When the night and its clouds 

are approaching, 


Enemies gird thee round. * Who is here ?' thou inquires!. 

No answer. 
Look on Ozul, for the moon shines bright on his blood- 

cover'd forehead. 
Nay ! thou wilt save the child, the child of the snowy-hair'd 

hero ; 
Or wilt thou haste to the field, to the sorrow-clad field of 

thy brethren ?" 
Arbocz with gloomy heart to the words of the prisoner 

listen'd ; 

Still he repressed the storm of his easily- wake n'd anger, 
Look'd on the maiden's face and answer'd her " Lovely 

Etelke ! 
Dreams, vain dreams, are these : words never made heroes 

tremble : 

Men, with murderous weapons, alone do this. But a mai- 
Menace ! Nay ! Roses close their beautiful lips till the 


Warms their bosom anew with the light and joy of the sun- 
shine ; 

Dews on the leaflets shake, and the winds of the valley 
blow gently ; 

Then unveil they their charms, then fling they their smiles 
around them : 

So, if thou hide thy head in the clouds, the gloom is but 
transient ; 

Dark for an instant thine eyes, by those beautiful eye-brows 
o'ershaded ; 


Soon do they shine, as the rainbow the south-seekine: sun 


paints so gaily. 

Sad art thou, maiden, and anxious yet sportive and smil- 
ing thou seemest ; 
Lovelier far, and thy cheeks are more beautiful, hiding thy 

List, and I'll tell thee why Arbocz elected thee : 

Maiden ! 
Never again shall we reach the cherish'd abode of thy 

Joyful they sit in the porch, while they hear the old song 

of the battle ; 
Pledging some distant companion not knowing how idly 

they pledge him 
The death-glass and he whom they pledge is departed for 

ever. We hasten 
On, on ; and in faith all your heroes may cut through the 

far slower south- wind 
Follow the shadows that flit in the frown-curtain'd regions 

of darkness, 
Stretching in giant stride, like ghosts that grow huger in 

Truly, they never shall reach us ; and great is their fortune 

and favor, 
Spared by our darts, which might bring them the message 

of death. But I'll bring thee 
Home to some isle of the ocean, that smiles in the beams 

of the morning ; 


Sweetest the song of the nightingale, greenest the leaves 

of the forest, 
Softest the sounds of the winds, and brightest the azure 

of heaven : 
Apples of exquisite taste hang there on the ground-kissing 

Thee shall no bird overtake faint and feeble the flight 

of the eagle; 
Tracking our course, shall he droop on his whirling and 

wearisome pinions. 
Tiresome the way for man ; not one of a thousand can 

pass it. 
Even the man thou didst name, the man of the battle-axe, 

Laszl6 aye, cleanse he thy land for his followers know, 

he shall perish, 
Perish and all the wave's monsters shall feed on the wrecks 

of his armies. 
He when his armour of brightness invites the great fish 

of the ocean, 

Moving glibly on, while the soak'd and wandering members 
Fall in his man-devouring maw shall die. Dost grieve 

thou art helpless ? 
Nothing thy pride can do 'gainst power. Far better the 


Love will give in the grasp of an age of youthful vigor. 
Scorn not bliss that asks thy welcoming, but dispose thee, 
Maid, for love my hand my hand of faith do I proffer. 


Say, wilt be the slave, or rather the sovereign, of Arbocz ?" 

Craftily thus he spoke, and bade her forget her country 

Bade her make him alone the care and love of her bosom. 

Silly one ! O'er the plain the armies of bronze are shining ; 

Dust in clouds upsoars, and crowds of heroes are coming. 

" Talpra vitez !" * exclaim'd Ozul in his haughtiest bid- 

" Talpra vitez !" around Cserhalom's borders was echoed. 

Shouts and cries were heard where the Kunians march'd 
with their weapons. 

Arbocz trembled then looking round with fright and 

Like a sleeping man who is roused by the rumbling of 
thunder : 

So he stood and the dreams of his folly and lust were 
scattered ; 

Other thoughts were his than the thoughts of the fair 

Horrors came o'er his soul, like waves on the ocean trou- 

Soon did the armorist come he came with his lance and 

Frighten'd, the lovely maid had hasten'd to meet him; yet 

Pleasure was in her soul, though tears in her eye tears 
of gladness : 

* On, Warriors ! 


Yet she wept she wept ; while, tossing his head in dis- 

Arbocz wander'd round, made hoarse by the longing for 
combat : 

All his gentleness gone, he utter'd these words of impa- 
tience : 

" Weeping, forsooth ! yet these, all these, to their death- 
bed are hast'ning. 

Weep thou shalt weep no more. Expect me delighted 
from battle." 

Said, and he sprung on his steed, and he rush'd 'midst the 
thick of the squadrons. 

Hark ! for the trump is loud, and the combatant weapons 
are clashing ; 

Volumes of dust, shouts and cries, ascend from the crush 
of the warriors 

Tones of confusion and moans, and the manifold accents of 

Over the rest, Oziil, on his chestnut war-steed advancing, 

Speeds through the ranks, and lets loose destruction's terri- 
ble ploughshare 

Curses begetting rage, and devilish purpose, of murder. 

Soon the voice of joy is heard. On the top of Cserhalom's 

Lo ! a valiant band, their arms in the high heavens shaking. 

^j 3 

'Midst a terrible crowd is Etelke the feeble young flow- 

J O 

ret ; 


Hope, witli its sorrow-mix'd fear, and joy, in her spirit are 

c?o o 

Hard-hearted warriors surround her, wherever she turns for 

protection : 
Bending on trembling knee, she invokes the heavenly 

Say, shall she perish? In vain the question breaks forth 

from her spirit. 
Hear her, O Heaven ! in her bitterness hear her : she 

prays for her country. 
Heaven ! thou hast heard her prayer her country shall no 

man wrest from her. 


BORN 1757 DIED 1823. 

Melly irigysgbol orumunkbe szokta 
Onteui mrget. VERSEGHI. 



Szedjuk a' rozsut, valahol pirfilni. 

PLUCK we the roses let us pluck the roses, 
O my sweet maiden ! when we find them blooming ; 
While they are smiling 'midst their thorny branches, 
Pluck we the roses. 

Bright as they seem, the spirit of perdition 
Sweeps them ere morning: shall we lose the transports 
JVbu; pressing round us, in the distant dreaming 
Future may promise ? 

All that we have is blended in the present ; 
Chances and changes trifle with the future; 
Oft 'tis its task to mingle in joy's chalice 
Drops of dark poison. 

Pubj/ c 



*. o^. ^ L . It 



Voud-lc mar egyszcr, sanyaru Igaszag ! 

DOFF the thick veil that hides thy lovely visage, 
Justice ! 'tis time the veil which in thy childhood 
Sages flung o'er thee let us look upon thee 
In thine own beauty. 


Kind was the thought the countenance of evil 
Shouldst thou not see, for thou wert its condemner ; 
All the gold piles of wealth-encumbered proud ones, 
Thee should not dazzle. 

Doff the thick veil hide thy bright eye no longer ; 
Crime is too bold look on in sternest beauty ; 
See, for mankind are dragged to basest doings 
Bv their own blindness. 


Eyes sharp as thine are watching how thou boldest 
High o'er thy head the scale ; but listen, Goddess ! 

O <l 

Didst thou not hear a piece of gold that tinkled 
In thine own balance ? 


Didst thou not know thy sword had lost its brightness ? 
Trembled thy hand the while a mighty villain 
Whispered, and threatened thee with wrath and vengeance ? 
Yes! thy hand trembled. 

Didst thou not know that thou hadst been deluded 
By the vain pomp of words hadst lost the spirit, 
Seeking the letter, of thine holiest canon ? 
Justice ! unveil thee. 

OfY with the veil behold the heaven is cloudless, 
And the sun mounts in unaccustomed glory; 
See, all mankind are seeing wilt thou only 
Wear thine old blindness ? 



Nczzd a' bi'uakalaszt, biiszken emelodik az egnek. 

KMPTY yet and green, that corn-ear tosses high its lofty 

See it ripe and full and golden, bend in meek submission 

Such is boyhood in its folly shallow, proud, and inso- 

Such is manhood in its wisdom modest, and in calmness, 



Szunj imir meg egyszer bnzgani ellcncin. 

HAUNT me not, Envy ! why vvouldst thou follow me 
Wealth's possessions I lust not after, 
Nor tread with the crowd who chase so eagerly 
Vanities which my thoughts despise. 

Office I covet not all the cravings 


Of thirsting ambition delude me never; 
They smile on others ; but golden treasure 
And noisy titles I idle dee:n. 

Wealth amasses in countless storehouses, 
Harvests and power, its piles upgatheriag, 
Holds the keys which iong-lin'd ancestry 
Sends like sceptres from son to son. 

Lo ! it pours from crystal glasses 
The juice Tokayan, which earth provided 
For favorites, in her capricious restlessness. 
Lo ! they smile while they quaff the cup ; 

I, in narrow chamber, quiet 
My hunger with poor supply; and quenching 
My thirst with water-drops, ask the Dcily 
None but humble gifts like these : 


Wife that feels, and breeze refreshing me ; 
Thoughts unanxious, and youthful spirits 
When age comes on ; and friends of faithfulness 
Ever renewing the verdant song. 

( 203 ) 


BORN 1757. 

Baiatim, hat ! nc henyellyiuik 
A' kev&bol sokat lln\nk 

iMig a' tatott sir bdfal 

Rovid cltunk, mint e' clal. 




CEASE thy reproaches, my friend, nor hastily blame me if, 

Stretch'd on a pillow of down, I have tarried too long in 

my slumbers ; 

Say not, The sun is awake, and is mounting aloft to meri- 
dian ; 
Long, long before thee he rose ; but night is the time for 

Friend ! when the sun hastens down to the ocean at even, 

what drinks he ? 
When he seeks rest and sweet sleep, what drinks he ? 

He drinks the salt billows; 
Had he but drunk of the grape which grew on Szeszgard's* 

lovely vineyard, 
He had not roused him so soon, but had slept to this 

moment, my friend ! 

* Szcszgard is a village in she Tulna district,, renowned for its 
.superior red wine. 

Kenwtt 19aUo!$. 


The greater part of these compositions have been collected for 
me by the care and kindness of Dr. George Charles Rumy. A num- 
ber had been gathered together by my valuable correspondent Dii- 
brentci, but I regret to say that they have never reached me, and 
the disappointment has been vexatious to me in the extreme. 
The great difficulty of communication with Hungary and Tran- 
sylvania will serve as an excuse for the incompleteness of this 




Edcs baba gyere ki. '^^^ 

COME hither, sweet maiden, come hither to me, 
And bring of good wine a full measure with thee ; 
And give me a kiss for the kiss I will give thee, 
And do not deceive, and I will not deceive thee.* 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XII., p. 89, 1818. 

* Original. Adj egy csokot, en meg mast, 

Ugy nein csaljuk meg egyiuast. 
i. e. Give me a kiss, I will give thee another, 
So shall \ve not deceive one anoiher. 



Zapor eso utan eszterhaj megcsorchij. 

THE pent-house drops raindrops after the shower ; 
And does thy heart spring up to mine, 

Spring up to mine ? 
No rain falls down, no storm-clouds lower, 

But my sheep-skin is wetted through and through ; 
Wet within, and without with dew. 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XII., p. 89, 1818. 



Mikor en kis gyermek v<51tam. 

TIME was, I knew no greater bliss 
Than to pluck walnuts from the bough ; 
But sweeter maidens' lips to kiss 
Alone can make me happy now. 



Az ido szarnyom jur. 
TIME flics on easrle-wings away, 

.j O / ' 

It will not for a moment stay, 

But like a stream glides on glides on; 
It never turns its footsteps back, 
But sinks all ages in its track, 

And reigns and rules alone. 
The poor, the rich, alike pursues ; 
The poor, the rich, alike subdues ; 

Who can withstand it ? None ! 

There's only one whose mightier strength 
The strength of time o'erpowers at length, 

And sits in quiet victory; 
Time's sickle mows it not ; time's flight 
Brings nor decay, nor death, nor blight, 

But passes harmless by ; 
There's only one 'tis virtuous fame, 
Through shifting ages still the same, 

It shines eternally. 

This poem was written in Ifi57. 



A' kiliti falu vegcn. 

ABOVE Kilite's* farthest verge 
I saw a heavenly star emerge ; 
A heavenly star, an earthly rose, 
That far its light and fragrance throws. 

J Tis long 'tis ages since we met : 
The rain-drops fall from Komor yet. 
Thence comes my lover too and see, 
He swings his kalap-f joyfully. 

Upon Siofo's quiet lake, 
Mark yonder dove its pinions shake ; J 
What crowds around its margin tread ! 
And why disturb the hazel maid ? 

* Kilit is a village in the province of Shimig, about two En- 
glish miles from Fok, on the other side of the Lake of Sio. 

f Ernelgeti a' kalapjat. 
He swings his hat. 

J Siofoki Balatonba, 

Forodik egy galambocska. 

In the Balaton (Lake) of Siofo a Dove is bathing. GolubocMk, 


Soon will the flowers of May-tide come, 
And then the vintage fruits speed home ; 
And then the busy clays of tillage ; 
And then and then our happy village 

The marriage song of joy shall hear, 
The youth and maiden shall be there ; 
Girt like a knight that youth shall be, 
Beloved O how beloved, by me ! 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XXXII,, 1818. 

p 2 



Eg a' kunyho, ropog a' nad. 

THE house is burning the timbers crack; 

I rushed to the maidens brown and fair ; 
I brought the brown in safety back, 

The fair I left in danger there. 


And then I longed for the light-hair'd one, 
As we long for grapes from the tendrill'd tree ; 

But more, far more, for the maiden brown, 
Who is dear as an apple is dear to me.* 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XXXII., p. 281, 1818. 
* Mint a' borizu ahnara. 



Tot aszszonynak tut a lanya. 

WITH maiden of Slavonian race, 
Clad in light robes of flowing grace, 
I danced and got me in her dress 
Entangled, by her flauntiness. 

I tried, but scarce could set me free, 
And blushed at my perplexity ; 
Involved within the folds far more, 
And in the fringes, than before. 

And then I made a vow, and said, 
I'll have no fringed Slavonian maid ; 
Hungaria's plain-dressed girls for me, 
Hungaria's chaste simplicity. 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XLIL, 1818. 



Faj, faj, faj, faj, faj a' sziveiu, faj. 

IT smarts, it smarts, it smarts with pain ; 
O my poor heart ! it smarts for thee ; 
Thou wakenest to my memory, 
And then it smarts, and smarts again. 

Woe, woe, woe, woe ! my doom is woe ; 
Thou fann'st my feelings into fire ; 
And irony that's worse than ire, 
Its venom o'er my wounds doth throw. 

It weeps, it weeps my heart it weeps 
Far bitterer tears than when the bird 
Its mate's imprisoned song has heard, 
And its lone watch of sorrow keeps. 

No ! no, no, no ! I will not wear 
A monarch's gems but rather hold 
Love's chains of grief than pomps of gold, 
And lay them on my bosom bare. 

None, none, none, none, O none but thee,, 
Where'er I tarry, tread, or turn ; 
For thee alone life's flame shall burn 
Till trampled by mortality. 


O angel! angel mine! what eye 
Can see, what heart can feel nor own 
Thy charms and love thee, thee alone, 
Soul of the kiss of ecstacy ! 

How sweet, how sweet, how sweet to dwell 
In love's transporting joys ! to sail 
Down life's sweet stream, with favoring gale, 
Till reaching death's unwelcome cell ! 

Blest of creation thou divine 
Light of mine eyes thou living rose, 
That fragrance o'er my being throws, 
Let blessings li;ht that path of thine ! 



Faj, fftj. 

WOE, woe! 
Woe ! my soul's woe ! 

She is departed, 

I broken hearted ; 
Woe ! my soul's woe ! 

O'er my dark hours 
Wretchedness pours 
Thousands of curses and pains 
Nothing remains. 


Nothing for sorrow 
To smite with to-morrow ; 
Sorrow has emptied its quiver, 
Emptied for ever. 

And my sad soul 
Stands at the goal 

Where suffering's exhausted ; I crave 
Nought but a grave. 



Van egy szep Bacs Vannegyeben. 

THERE is on Bacsia's happy land, 
There is upon the Tiszian strand, 
A maiden from whose face there streameth 
Light, as from any star that beameth. 

She holds a fragrant violet, 

And a red paony, that's wet, 

That's wet, that's fed with heavenly dew 

A favorite of the maiden too. 

She is as radiant as the morn, 
Her eye-light pierces like a thorn ; 
Her form is grace and majesty ; 
The world has nought so fair as she. 

Her graceful, gentle, easy gait ; 
Her tones so soft, so smooth, so sweet : 
It were no sin * to build a shrine, 
And bend before her as divine. 

Hasznos Mulaisdgok, No. XXII., p. 169, 1819. 
* Ncm kai- volna. If weir no pity, 



De rait toroin fejcmet ? 

O WHY, O why should I repine, 
As if there were no griefs but mine, 

No woes like these ? 

Since others have their cares not few 
And others sing their dirges too 

And elegies. 

There's none whose bliss may not be broken, 
There's none whose language has not spoken 

Of sad distress : 

No eyes that tears have never wet, 
No heart above the influence set 

Of bitterness. 

Poor man ! he deems it sweet to know, 
When thistles round his path-way grow, 

They grow for al! ; 
That he, a pilgrim, only fares 
As other pilgrims fare and shares 

Man's common call. 
And thus, the universal lot 
He bearsand bearing, murmurs not 


'Twere vain annoy ; 
But, with his fellow-travellers speeds 
Over the plain, 'midst flowers and weeds, 

In social joy. 

Then yield not, yield not to despair, 
But bid the bud of sorrow bear 

A flower of peace ; 
For peace is virtue's favorite twin, 
And grief is close allied to sin ; 

And changeless ease 
Is not a child of earth : there's nought 
But quiet courage, tranquil thought, 

To smooth our path : 
Pain will be there 'tis yours, 'tis mine, 
'Tis all men's. Misery its decline 

And rising hath. 

Thus I subdue my stubborn will, 
And though my grief were greater still, 

Would patient bow. 
Calmer and happier there are many, 
And yet I would not change with any 

My being now : 

For I have learnt 'tis well ! and spring 
A joyous, renovated thing, 

From grief and gloom. 
'Tis well ! I'll utter through the day 
'Tis well ! upon my bed I'll say, 

Through time to come, 


Friends ! I have triumphed ! I have found 
Comfort now pass the wine-glass round ; 

We'll pledge anew. 
Among your social ranks I'll stand, 
I'll grasp again each friendly hand, 

And so do you ! 
If absence exile us if I, 
Divided, distant need must sigh 

O'er life's vexations, 
I'll think that every pain is light, 
And every hour of darkness bright, 

Save separation's. 

[This Song, the original of which is exquisitely versified, was 
first published by Adam von Horvath, himself a Hungarian poet. 
In the province of the White Mountains (Stuhlweisseuberger) , 
it is universally known and sung, and is one of the most popular 
pieces of Magyarian poetry. The present translation was printed 
in the Pledge of Friendship for 1828.] 



Mas a' verb, mas a' fecske. 

THE sparrow is no swallow, the gad-fly is no bee, 
The crowfoot* is no rose, and no grape the gooseberry ; 
No brass is gold, no bran as honey-comb is sweet, 
And summer when it comes the thrush is pleased to greet 
The ducats of the rich, however bright and many, 
Need never blush to own the poor man's single penny. 

* Beka-virag. Ranunculus acris. LINN. 



Gyere Ruszam Enyingre. 

COME, my Rosa ! let me flee 

To Enyin, o'er the world, with thee, 

Where roses in the markets be, 

Which thou shalt wreathe and wreathe for me. 

Sweet Bodis hath a garland bound, 
And twined it all my sleeve around ; 
What thanks I owe her ! she hath crown' d 
With thick-strewed flowers the wreaths she wound. 

The elder-tree is dead and dry ; 
Where, where at evening shall we lie ? 
Soon to our pillow must we fly ; 
Our bridal bed awaits us nigh. 

Dost go, my Rose ? Indeed I go. 
Wilt leave me here ? Aye ! be it so. 
And wilt thou not repent thee ? No ! 

1 cross the Rhine-waves when they flow.* 

* The singular construction of the original of this verse is 
here preserved : 

El megy Riizsani ? el biz* en. 
Itt hagysz engein ? itt biz' en. 
Nem szaunul e'? nem biz' en : 
At menek Rajna vizen, 


Nine golden florins must be mine, 
What I desire dost thou decline ? 
No ! I desire not. Dream of thine ; 
I leave thee now to cross the Rhine. 

I will not struggle for thee now, 
Nor in the year to come, I vow ; 
I go, I go, I tell thee so, 
To where the Rhine's old waters flow. 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XXIII. p. 177, 1819. 



Niucsen nekem semmi bnjom, csak hogy szegeny vagyok. 

NOTHING, nothing do I want, and yet I'm very poor ; 
An idler all my life have been, yet am afflicted sore ; 
Stores of wheat I call my own, and still I have no bread ; 
I have been married long, though now no wife adorns my 


A son is born to me, and yet no father has that son ; 
He has not been baptized as yet there is no priest, not 

one ; 
I fain would call a priest no priest can any where be 

found ; 

I fain would call a friend no friend is visible around. 
Bring wine ! bring wine ! Alas ! no wine within my vaults 

may be ; 
Go buy ! go buy ! but who will sell or trust to me to 

me ? 
O God ! what shall I think of now in this sad poverty ? 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. V. p. 33, 1822. 



Oli IK J parfmyi Ids csii|M>r. 

O SILLY pipkin ! storming so 
With such a little fire below ; 

silly love ! that burns and burns, 
And all my senses overturns. 

It is not hard a fish to snare, 
But of the fish's bones take care ; 
Not hard with her you love to be, 
But O ! the parting misery ! 

The sun, the rain, the wind combine 
To ripen grape-fruits on the vine ; 
And in due time those fruits are press'd, 
And maidens for the altar dress'd. 

What ! would they hide me from my love, 
Mine own, mine own, my favorite dove ? 
They called me weak they did me wrong; 
They called me weak but I am strong. 

1 would not on the ridge be thrown, 
I would not by the scythe be mown ; 

My right-hand lost, O ! who would knead 
For thee the white, the wheaten bread ? 

Hasznos Mutatsdijok, No. VIII. 1823. 



Rontom, bontom, testem csontom. 

ACHING, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
Half transported, half afraid ; 
To my lightly-dancing maid 
Stretch I out my arms, while she 
Sees my knees sink under me : 

Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
Half transported, half afraid. 

Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
Like a magpie skip I round ; 
When I dance, my joys abound, 
And I see my maiden's knees 
Trembling, just as tremble these : 

Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
Like a magpie skip I round. 

Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
Still I dance in joy and fear ; 
O the grievous burden here ! 
Heavy on my heart I feel 
More concern than love can heal : 

Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 
O the grievous burden here ! 


Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 

I must throw my nadrdg off;* 

Thou thy maiden-robes must dofT ; 

Death shall find us if thou please, 

Dancing dances gay as these :f 
Aching, quaking, tottering, shaking, 

I must throw my nadrdy off. 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XL. p. 301, 1819. 

* Hadd repcdjen a' sziik n ad rag I must tear oft' my garments, 
f Vigan kozakost tanczolva. 

I have introduced the above as a specimen of the free and 
popular songs of the Hungarians, rather than from any sense of 
its merit, beyond that lively and joyous spirit which distinguishes 
the original. 

Q 2 



Hej ! Katiczfuu, Katiczam ! 


AH! Kitty, my Kitty, 
Dost love me sincerely, 
Devotedly, dearly ? 

Then turn not away. 


Ah ! Geordie, my Geordie, 
Dost love me sincerely, 
Devotedly, dearly ? 
Beloved one, say ! 


O couldst thou but know, love, 
How I have been sighing, 
'Twixt living and dying, 
And sickening for thee. 


Poor patient ! console thee ; 
Affection will borrow 
A charm out of sorrow, 
If faithful thou be. 



O ! if thine affection 
For others is glowing, 
The streamlet here flowing 
Shall roll o'er my grave. 


Scribe, bailiff, and shepherd, 
And landlord, and rheinhard, 
The ox, and the swineherd, 
My answer shall have. 


O mis'ry of mis'ries ! 

Why sport thus to grieve me ? 
Thou canst not, love ! leave me ; 
Indeed thou art mine. 


Be calm, and I'll tell thee 
That thee thee alone, I 
Will call all mine own I 
Will only be thine. 

Hasznos Mulatsagqk, No. IV. p. 25, 1823. 



'Allj meg, Rozsam egy szora ! 

ONE word, one only word and then 
Off, maiden ! to thy toils again ; 
I ask no kiss, I only say, 
One word, one word, and then away. 

Whene'er you see a youth outpour 
Rose-water all his visage o'er ; 
And wash and stroke his whiskers, know 
'Tis love alone impels him so. 

And when you see a maiden throw 
Rose-water o'er her snowy brow, 
Be sure she loves some chosen man, 
And she will have him if she can. 

A house there is on Duna's* shore, 
And a fair maid but on the door 
There are nine locks but what are they ? 
I'll break their nine-fold bolts away. 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. XVI. p. 127, 1819. 

* The Danube, 


Sik mezoberi, /old erdoben. 

OE'R the meadows, to the forest, 

Little birdlet flew : 
Green his pinions, bright his flying,* 

Beautiful to view. 
And he calls me " Come, go with me, 

" I'll go with thee too." 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. XLI. p. 321, 1819. 
* Piros laba his flight is red. 



Tiszta liszbol sul a' kalacs. 

HER labouring hands the meal must knead, 
Her busy toil must bake the bread ; 
The priest may read his records o'er : 
The lord and master take the air :* 
But there is nought but grievous care 
And heavy labour for the poor. 

As from the rock the mad cascade 
Falls so did I a thoughtless maid 
Wed when it had been well to tarry. 

could I be a maid again, 

That man must be a man of men, 
Who should seduce the maid to marry !f 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. XXXV. p. 281, 1818. 

* Unit, mestert a* setalas. 
f The original has 

" Jol megneznem kihcz menuek 
Megvalasztauam a' legenyt, 
Mint piarczon_az edenyt." 

" I would look carefully around me before I married} 

1 would so choose a youth 

As I choose a vessel in the market-place." 

Ferjhez nienni (to go to the man) is the Hungarian phrase for 
the woman's marrying (uubere). The marriage of the bride- 
groom 5.^ called Fdcsegul venni (to take a wife) duccre. 



Sikra valek, ott talalek kincs kincs kincsrc. 

UPON the ground, I found, I found, a tre-tre-treasure ; 
I o-uide mv boat, when once afloat and hur-hur- 

o .' 

Hurry to the Inchian lands, where mine own beloved stands. 
I 20, I so, to Bakneio * my fa-fa-father-land ; 

O * 3 * J ' J 

And all the scene, is fair and green ; an or-or- 
Orphan was I once, but now covet I a maiden's vow. 

Amidst the throng, I sought her long and haste-haste- 

By joy impell'd my glassf I held and rest-rest- 
Rested on my plighted faith strong as love, and strong as 

Let no disdain, sweet maiden, pain thy love-love-lover, 
But let us share our frugal fare be hap-hap- 
Happy on those gifts to live, which the Papa-field * shall 

* Bakouy is an extensive forest in Vestpriin, and Papa is a 
remarkably pretty market-town in the same province. 

f Tukoroiumel, mirror. Doubtless to exhibit the face of tlu 

I Field of the Priest. 


Some simple dish of bread and fish our dai-dai-dainties : 
Hungarians brave no more would have. The coach- 

Coachmen swiftest steeds convey, but the blind-man gropes 

his way.* 

And thus, and thus, sweet maid for us, shall age, age, ages, 
With gentle tread, glide o'er our head and he-he- 
Heaven's benignity divine, grant us bread and grant us 

Hasznos Mulalsdgok, p. 1, 1820. 

* Szanra siet a' kocsis, talpra tapod a' vak is. The coachman 
hurries over the sledge-path, and the blind man treads upon his 
own soles ; i. e. some move fast, some slow ; and no man is 
master of his own destiny. The curious rythmus of the original 
is preserved in this translation, thus : 

Sikra vale"k, ott talalek kincs, kiucs,'_kiucsre 
Tiszta kezem mar evezem incs, incs, 
Incsre sietve megyek, hogy szeretbe legyek. 



Sarga csizsmas Miska sarban jar. 

MISKA comes with yellow boots, and in scarlet clothes, 
On the streamlet's farther bank Panni lingering goes ; 
Wait not Panni wait not now, for that foppish fellow 
Will not spoil his scarlet clothes nor his boots of yellow. 

Would he risk his scarlet clothes still thy tarrying lover 
Could not cross the parting stream would not ford it over; 
For the plank is borne away by the o'erflowing tide,* 
Panni too has turned her eye from the youth aside. 

Not the scarlet, not the stream, nor the barking hound, 
Mighty heaven ! far other cause 'twas the envious sound, 
Sound which slander's voice had waked and the love long 

Out of ancient happy thoughts faded, fainted, fled. 

* In these lines are two vulgarisms : 

A' vizeu at' (1) meg sem mehetne, 
A' padot elmosta vot (2) az arviz. 
He could not go through the water,, 
The overflowing carried the plank away. 

(1) At' for dltal (through). Vot for volt. 



Arad a' viz, mog elapad. 

THE waters ebb and the waters flow, 
My head is aching with anxious woe ; 
But come, my rose, and sit down with me, 
Soon calm and sunny hours will beam ; 
My heart shall find tranquillity, 
And be as bright as Maros' stream. 

Sweet dovelet ! thou art as sad as I ; 
List ! for the stork goes flapping by : 
See ! for the courser seeks the glade ; 
The grass is hung with gems of dew. 
Let's seek the fields, my lovely maid, 
Let's mount our steeds, and be joyful too. 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. XXVIII. p. 209, 1819. 



STORK ! Stork ! poor Stork ! 

Why is thy foot so bloody ? 
A Turkish boy hath torn it, 
Hungarian boy will heal it, 

With viols, fifes, and drums. 

The original of this curious composition is as follows : 

G61ya, g61ya, golicza ! 

Mert veres a' labod ? 
Torok gyerek vagta ; 
Magyar gyerek gyogyitotta 

Sippal, dobbal, nadi hegeduvel. 

[When in the spring the storks first appear on Csalokoz, (one 
of the islands of the Danube,) the boys of Hungary assemble 
with drums, and fifes, and violins, and welcome the birds with 
this simple song. It is an universal opinion among the lower 
classes of the Hungarians, that the storks (which they look upon 
with great tenderness) pass their winter in Turkey, where, ac- 
cording to the stories of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth 
centuries, every species of cruelty was practised upon them.] 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. LI. 1820. 



Nem jiitten volna en ide. 

WHY am I here, O why am I bound 
In magic fetters now ? 

A brown maiden's eyebrows have girt my heart round, 

The eyebrows that gird her brow ; 
And were it not so, and were it not so, 

1 could not from that brown maiden go. 

Brown maiden ! O thou hast betray'd the youth 

Thou, erst so beloved and true ; 
Thou hast trapp'd in a snare my spirit of truth, 

Thou art falsehood and fickleness too ! 
And all thou hast done, and all thou hast said, 
O'erflow'd with deceit, thou treacherous maid ! 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XXII. 1820. 


Gsaplarosne galambom. 

Now, hostess, now ! my pretty bird, 

Fill up the cup with wine ; 
So I, the poor Hungarian boy, 

Shall chase the griefs of mine. 

And blessings on thee, comrade dear ! 

Heaven shield thy head from woes, 
From penal laws, and fiscal claws,* 

And Turks and Tartar foes. 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. XXXVII. 1820. 

[This song is called a Betydr Doll. Betydr is a miserable dog, 
a poor devil (as the French use pauvre diable) .- the word also 
means herdsman, and particularly swineherd.] 

* Varmegye'tol, Fiscustol literally, from the justices or autho- 
rities of the laws ; and from the Fiscal, (Justitiarius,) or Amt- 
mann, in Germany. The arbitrary acts of these personages are 
very notorious, and the wish to be freed from them a most natu- 
ral prayer ; nor is the desire to be safe from Turks and Tartars a 
less appropriate one in the mouth of a wretched Hungarian. 


Magamban nevetein. 

I OFTEN laugh contentedly 

On the u Grid's evil and its good ; 
Far dearer than the world to me 

Is this, my mountain solitude. 

I eat and drink my spirit-ease, 

No legal squabbles drive away ; 
1 lay me down at eve in peace, 

And joy awakes me when 'tis day. 

And every cottage is my home, 

And every shepherd is my friend ; f 
Their wealth is mine mine theirs they come 

In common bliss, our bliss to blend. 

Sweet songs I know are sometimes heard, 

But none so sweet, so dear as these, 
When the gray thrush, ecstatic bird ! 

O'er Matra pours its ecstacies. 

* Matra is a high mountain in the province of Chenestz. 
f Emberem, verbally my man; jobb embercm, as here, my best 
man, my friend. 


The robber's plots, the murderer's hands, 

Intrude not on our mountain glen ; 
Our robbers are the Wolfine bands, 

But not the fiercer bands of men. 

No sorrows make my visage white, 

Or from my cheeks their smiles convey ; 

My pipe I kindle with delight, 

While round its smoky volumes play. 

The noonday sun shines hot above, 

Then with my herds I hasten home, 
Milk the white ewes to please my love, 

And know a sweet reward will come. 

Again we seek the hills I seize 

My furyla, * and wake its song; 
And, scattering music on the breeze, 

I walk my listening sheep among. 

Then to the Linden trees I go, 

Each Linden seems to welcome me ; 
My body on the turf I throw, 

Where spread the shadows of the tree. 

But who is there ? My rose, my rose ! 

My heart is buried in her breast, 
As in a shrine. O see ! she goes 

Clad in her short and modest vest, f 

* Furulya, Furuglya, is the Hungarian shepherd's pipe. 
f Szoknyahan : the short under garment of the Hungarians. 



Sweet Pere ! aye ! thou art as sweet 

As is forgiveness ; * on thy face 
I saw two smiling angels meet, 

Two little loves thy cheeks did grace. 

Where art thou wandering Pere ! mine ! 

My flocks are scattered widely now ; 
For thee I look, for thee I pine ; 

Sweet maiden ! tell me where art thou ! 

* Ollyam vagy te Pere, 
Mint az engedelem : 

" So art thou, Pere, like forgiveness :" i. e. thou art ready to 
forgive, thou art forgiveness itself. 



Xc.sze vedd el jegy gyiirudet. 

TAKE the wedding-ring away, 
And take the wedding-kerchief, pray ! 

take them back it may not be 

1 must not share my fate with thee. 

Alas ! my sisters are thy foes, 

And father, mother, friends oppose ; 

blame me not, it was not I 

1 struggled 'gainst the misery. 

Could / have will'd, a different lot 
Were thine and mine O blame me not! 
I am a poor and feeble one, 
Whom pity might look down upon. 

O'er me there shines a baleful star, 
Whose rays of disappointment are ; 
The spring for me hath doff'd its bloom, 
And comes all clad in garb of gloom. 

I plant young roses and the rose 
To briars and to wormwood grows ; 
O wormwood ! wormwood ! plant of death, 
Of thee I'll twine myself a wreath. 


Thou shall my bridal-garland be, 
To crown a sad festivity; 
Then in the peasant's hats shall wave, 
When I am carried to my grave. 

HasznosMulatsdgok 9 No.'X.LV. 1823, 



Hirtolen no a' szerelem. 


How sudden love's creation is, 

My heart's experience well may deem; 

'Tis full of pain, 'tis full of bliss, 
A light, mysterious, lovely dream : 

A transport heaving in my breast, 
A fire that burns my cheeks, a storm 

That rocks my heart, and rends my rest 

love ! thou sweetest, saddest form ; 
Thou complicated maze, that throws 

My mind into perplexity ! 
O soothe it with thy kiss, my rose ! 

Since for one kiss of love from thee 
The world Td freely give ; but hide 

Thy beauties from my anxious glance ; 
turn thy little mouth aside, 

And veil thy rosy countenance : 
Thy swelling hills of purest snow,* 

Thine arms so round and so enchanting, 
Sweet violet ! they wound me so, 

1 dare not look, for light is wanting. 

* Szokdocscld ho halmaid. Tliy swelling snow-lull*, i. c. thy 
swelling snoxv-white bosom. 


Nay ! bend thy lips of love to mine, 
And list to songs, tho' sad yet dear : 

I languish for a smile of thine, 

And tremble, while I hope and fear. 


I know that loves grow up unwonted ; 

My breast, youth ! vibrates to thy breast ; 
My rest, brown boy ! is also haunted 

By visions such as haunt thy rest : 
The sweet, transporting pain, I share it ; 

Love's mandate, I, like thee, obey ; 
And if thou bear its weight, I bear it, 

And walk with thee its thorny way. 
Sweet grief, sad pleasure let us dwell 

Together, sharing bane and bliss ; 
And if a kiss can bless us well ! 

Take, take, my love ! the maiden's kiss ! 
And these white hills of swelling snow, 

And those round arms if they can bring 
A solace or a screen from woe. 

Woe soon will fly on hurried wing. 
I'll bend my lips of love to thine, 

My happiest smile shall light on thee ; 
Sing not sad songs, dear heart of mine, 
But songs of joy and victory. 


Our kiss shall be the pledge of faith, 

The pledge of love, the heart's sweet pain ; 
And each to each here swears that death 

Alone shall part our souls again. 

Hasznos Mulatsagok, No. V. 1824. 



Pista szivem, de alhatnam ! 

SWEET Stephen ! my heart ! I am sleepy so throw, 
That I may repose, thy coarse garment * below ; 
" O sweet were the sleep I should sleep,-]- could I be 
Fast lock'd in the arms of a virgin like thee ; 
The arms of the virgin encircled in mine. 

O privileged day ! 
The kiss of the virgin my kisses shall shrine 

As sweeter than they." 

But if thou leave me, thy hand shall not break 
From the stem of the rose-tree a rose-bud so weak ; 
Tho' the hedge may be high, deep the grave tho' it be, 
Yes, Stephen ! my heart ! I will wait upon thee. 
" In thy soft virgin arms will I rest till decay 

Shall over me roll ; 
And the sweet virgin honey* thy kisses convey, 

Shall be food for my soul. 

Hasznos Mulatsugok, No. L. p. 393, 1822, 

* Szurod' terits'd, peasant's cloak. 

f Ahuat alhatnam, an orientalism, to sleep a sleep. 

} JSzitz niezetul, virgin honey. 



'Eneklesben, musikaban. 

O THE ecstatic bliss of song ! 
It bears my heart in streams along ; 
And my lips cry Again, again ! 
But of all strains the sweetest strain 
Is that which fills the soul and sense 
With overpowering eloquence 
Without its soul all song is vain. 



Szeretlek hat, a' mg elek, nemes lelek tegedlet. 

SWEET spirit ! while life has an impulse, thou'lt be 

In sorrow and sadness an angel to me ; 

Be mine as I'm thine let's be mutually blest 

As the love-warbling songsters that watch their green rest. 

Come hither ! to sink on my bosom for thou, 
Thou only shalt welcome the poet's first vow ; 
His truth shall be met by thy truth thou alone 
Can'st judge of its purity, sweet ! by thine own. 

My name and my glory are waiting on thee, 
My heart melts in thine my saint wilt thou be, 
My hope and my heaven, my being, my bliss ? 
Joy-giver what joy can'st thou give more than this ? 

My heart is thy temple, and, living or dead, 
Thy light on its altars will ever be shed ; 
And death, when it flings the poor ruin to clay, 
Shall rescue thy name from the wrecks of decay. 



Gyere be, Kozsam, gyere be. 

COME hither, come hither, sweet rosebud, I say, 

Come hither, come hither to me 
The door is wide open come hither, I pray, 

I am lonely and waiting for thee. 



O szerencsetlen fejeniet mind jarja. 

A THOUSAND perplexities hang on my brow, 

My heart is a streamlet of bitterness now ; 

For I find that thy love is but trifling and scorn ; 

Thou hast smitten a rock where a fountain of tears 

Springs forth and a passion which grew with my years, 

And blends with my being, hath left me forlorn. 



Nem hibaztal, a* kis Amor. 

LOVE ! thou hast vanquish'd me at last, 

And I am smitten through and through ; 
What thou couldst not do, time long past, 

Thou hast at length contrived to do. 
All my resistance is subdued, 

I prostrate fall in thy divan ; 
I stand no longer where I stood, 

I feel, I own, I am but man. 

I never asked nor pledged a vow, 

I never bowed to thy command ; 
I was a child but now, O now, 

Too well thy sway I understand. 
I am thy slave I wear thy chains 

My heart is subject all to thee ; 
One passion flows thro' all my veins, 

One sole sweet thought has mastered me. 

That lovely form ! 'tis Venus' own, 
By all the smiling graces blent ; 

The roselets in the garden grown 
Are far less fair, less redolent. 


Thine influence, gentle as the dew ; 

Thy motions, faultless ; and thy soul 
Is bright ! aye, bright and blessed too ! 

A beautiful, a perfect whole. 

Yes ! thou art beauteous in thy smile, 

And beauteous in thy falling tears ; 
Beauteous in silence, beauteous while 

Thy living language charms our ears. 
Even while I own thy tyranny, 

And know I am thy slave, 'tis blest 
To bend my fettered soul to thee, 

And, ruled by thee, to feel at rest. 

Happy, who stretches to the goal, 

And sits beneath love's flowery tree, 
And gathers from a blooming soul 

The fruits of blessed sympathy. 
There is no bliss but this for bliss 

Apart from love is all a dream ; 
It dwells upon a maiden's kiss, 

And consecrates the lover's theme. 

Hung on his maiden's arm, distress 

A garb of peace and pleasure wears ; 
And want itself is blessedness, 

When love looks smiling on its cares : 
So that love's pains their pleasures bring, 

And all its burthens wax them light, 
While hope's sweet beamings sun-rays fling, 

Thro' many a darkened day and night. 


My freedom is for ever lost 

Since thee I found, and at thy feet 
I fall and worship, with the host 

Of mine affections, strong and sweet. 
O yes ! I build a shrine to thee, 

And thou my worship'd idol art ; 
I, a poor pilgrim, reverently 

For incense offer mine own heart,' 

My heart ! yes ! bath'd in fragrant sighs, 

And mingled with untainted love ; 
With faith and truth, the odours rise 

To thee, who smilest from above. 
My prayers shall be mine incense, dear 1 

And for an offering worthy thee, 
I'll pour the unaffected tear 

grant a meet return to me ! 



'Egek erted, de nem latod nem is rzed tiizemet. 

I BURN for thee, and thou art cold, yet canst not quench 

my fire ; 

Why wilt thou smile on my despair, and not on my desire ? 
Yet could I break away from thee, I would not wear the 

Nor dash among the breakers wild, a sailor on the main. 

There's no reward for constancy, no honour waits on 


And love awakens misery, and faithlessness, and ruth : 
Passion's remorseless scourges give more painful pangs to 

And danger sits, and discord comes, where fondness has 

her reign ; 

And fear, that doubles all distress, hies thither with its 

And bondage, taking freedom's name, impels the spirit 

I see thee not I hear thee not how dark my path ap- 
pears ! 

I know not which o'et hangs it most, my passion or my 


Two pointed barbs have pierced me through; one is with 

magic charmed, 
One dipp'd in poison ; both, alas ! with awful terrors 

armed ; 

Freezing or firing, waking joys, or renovating woes; 
But every wavelet of my heart disturbs it as it flows. 

Dragg'd, dragg'd by misery on, life's press intolerably 

For, loveless, truthless, who could bear his melancholy 

fate ? 
For disappointment brings distress, and fearful thoughts 

And life will linger, linger on, as if it had no end ; 

Unless rny love for thee should break life's melancholy 

thread ! 
They ask me whence my gloomy dreams, and why I bend 

my head, 
And why I sigh and weep, nor know why sorrows cloud 

my brow. 
And shall I tell the dreary tale, and shall I say 'tis thou ! 

Who brought me to this dark abyss ? 'tis thou my tongue 

is still ; 
! will not blame thee ; I will bow submissive to heaven's 

will ; 



Wait patient for that sweet repose which crowns all mortal 

And love, while living live to love I swear it, maid ! I 


My truth shall last as long as life shall have no end but 
death ; 

I turn to thee, I call on thee, with hot and eager breath : 

And shall I tell thee all I feel that all, what words can 
tell ? 

For death alone the waves can calm that in my bosom 
swell ! 

Yes ! Welcome ! I would say to him I say to thee, Fare- 
well ! 



Gyaszba borult gondolatim sziinjetek. 

THOUGHTS that have slept in darkness, vanish now ; 
Ye have too long o'ershadow'd ray sad brow ; 
And I am summoned to that golden hour, 
When bliss, not sorrow, wields its mighty power. 

A brighter vision beams upon mine eyes, 
With dreams of thee and thy sweet courtesies ; 
And kiss-returning kisses odorous words, 
And all the smiles and sweets that love affords. 

The radiance bursting from thine orbs of day, 
The dimpled graces near thy lips which play ; 
They have possessed my spirit waked a fire 
That burns and brightens, and can ne'er expire. 

A fair pearl floating in my vision seems 
Is it a dream ? Then life has nought but dreams. 
Is she not mine ? Am I not hers ? Then thought, 
Sense, suffering, pain, and pleasure all are nought. 

Call honey, bitter I will not mistrust ; 
Call justice, knavery I will still be just : 
Say all that glitters is not gold 'tis true ; 
That hearts are morbid and I'll say so too. 



Gerliczenkgut nyogdocselek. 

LIKE a turtle-dove complaining 

That no joy is now remaining ; 

What shall hope's sweet dreams renew me, 
All life's desert, bare and gloomy ? 

One sad thought pursues me ever 
Love is fled, returning never ; 

She who was my love's first blossom, 

Sleeps upon another's bosom. 

What is left for love and gladness ? 

Sorrow, solitude, and sadness : 
For the dreams of peace departed, 
Signs have burst and tears have started. 

But the trees and flowers I summon, 
" Bring me back that lovely woman !" 

Then I think that she is sitting 

In her castle, me forgetting. 

So doth every matin, dawning, 

Shade my thought with gloomiest awning ; 
Hope deferred, and bliss retreating, 
Shall I ever hear thy greeting ? 



Monti meg, szivcia ! igaz vagy a' hozznm vagy csak csalogat^z. 

Now tell me, heart ! art thou sincere, or art dis- 
sembling still ? 
Art sporting with my happiness, and trifling with my will ? 

What sin have I committed ? What duty left undone ? 

Have I been faithless ? No! I've been untrue to none! 

A thousand, and a thousand times, I pledged to thee my 

If I have in a tittle failed, be my accuser now ! 

Now, while again I swear, through life and time to be 

Devoted to thyself, devoted all to thee. 

O how I love thy English face ! and love no face but 

thine ! * 
Yes ! all but thine, and all but thee, no love shall have of 


Return, my love, sweet mind ! for such a blest return 
Will wake all smiling thoughts, and check all thoughts 
that mourn. 

* Tisztdem Angyali kepet, mast soha uem szerek-k. 


Here, hovering round thy lovely form, till death shall smite 

thee, maid ; 
And dreaming of that better world which death shall ne'er 



Sweet thought ! which time can bring from blest eternity ; 
Sweet thought ! eternal joy ! to dwell in heaven with thee. 

Thou bidst mo leave thee. Yes! I'll leave, when love 

grows cold, or I 
Can plant another in my breast ; or, tired of thee, I die : 

Of thee, for whom I all abandon and despise ; 

Of thee, with whom the rays of pleasure set and rise. 

O scorn me not thy scorn is pour'd on truth, on love on 

That earth adores, that heaven approves ; thy marriage 


May see a fairer swain a prouder train may show, 
But faithfulness like mine, and fondness, maiden, No ! 

Yet come what will, and frown what may, I'll worship thee, 

my fair! 
All pains, all pangs, all martyrdoms, for thee I'll voiceless 


There is no death I dread, if from its suffering thou 
Would rouse thy love's sweet smile and consecrate my 



Bator a' sziv, eios is. 

THE human heart is bold and strong, 
Yet oft betrayed or guided wrong, 
With little flattering, soft carresses, 
Or gilded words that love expresses ; 
With fascinating smiles and kisses, 
And present dreams and premised blisses. 

The human heart is strong .and bold, 

Yet often wounded, oft controlPd ; 

Listening to fancy's strange transportings, 
And falsehood's wiles, and woman's courtings ; 

o ' 

A thousand treacherous darts ;o through it, 

O O " 

And then it bleeds, and then we rue it/ 

The human heart is strong and bold, 
A granite castle's mural hold, 

Where fetters rattle ah ! those fetters 
Have chained me, and they chain my belters. 
Sweet rose ! why should thy thorns surround me, 
Thus to perplex, and thus to wound me ? 


The human heart is strong and bold, 
But thine, a woman's, proud and cold ; 
Its iciness a fire has lighted, 
Its pride, my buds of hope has blighted. 
Strange that such power to thee was given 
To make, by love, a hell of heaven. 

Heart ! then be cautious, nor attend 
To whispering wiles, nor slippery friend ; 
The honied speech hath verjuice in it, 
And ecstacy's swift-pinion'd minute 

Brings years of pain : if love betray thee, 
Nought can its miseries repay thee. 



Vlgan elek a* vilagon. 

YOUTH'S the season of enjoyment. 
So I'll give full scope to joy ; 

Pleasure, wisdom's best employment, 
Shall my thoughts and dreams employ. 

Let the sad ally with sadness, 

I have made my peace with gladness. 

Full of smiles and cheerful-hearted, 
Spring leaves winter's dreary den ; 

Night's dark demons, when departed, 
Bring day's sunny sprites again. 

In the abyss of grief the deepest, 

Thou, sweet consolation ! sleepest. 

Life is fleeting then improve it ; 

Lo ! it melts beneath thy touch ; 
'Tis too lovely not to love it, 

'Tis too vain to love too much : 
It has honey-giving flowers, 
It has balsam-bearing bowers. 


Gather round thee friends of kindness, 
To their hearts thy heart be given ; 

Friendship in our mortal blindness 
Is the only light of heaven. 

For the faithless friends thou ruest, 

Cling to one, or two, the truest. 



Bezzeg vagyon nekem is mar felesegera. 

I GOT me a bride ah ! I got me a bride, 
And a pretty good portion of trouble beside ; 
1 have buried the peace and the joy of my life, 
Which I shouldn't have done had I buried my wife. 

I know not what fiend with the witch has combin'd ; 
He dived to his den, but he left her behind : 
I asked her for wine, and I asked her for bread, 
And she flung first abuse then her fist at my head. 

When I think of that excellent landlady who 
Gives me food gives me drink, and so cheerfully too ; 
And turn to that dragon,* whom tiger-milk nurst, 
My heart splits in two when I feel how I'm curst. 

Only two nights ago -who had dreamt she was nigh ? 
When thinking and meaning no evil, not I ; 
I was bound to a neighbor's the hideous one came 
And vomited vengeance, and fury, and flame. 

* Feni fereg Hideous worm a common Magyar appellation 
for the devil, or dragon (Sarkariy) . 


"Thou scoundrel! thou vagabond ! wench-hunting knave!"* 
This, this was the \\ elcome the evil one gave ; 
She roared like a lion that springs from his nook ; 
And, O ! how I tottered, and trembled, and shook. f 

How long, thou work of the devil ! how long ? 
Every day thou art here does thy destiny wrong : 
I know what thy doom is, I know it full well ; 
But why, while on earth, am I driven to hell ? 

* Te, kurafi ! mit csinalsz itt kurvanyadban ? 

Kurvanya literally means, mother of harlots. Kurva is the 
Slavonic for courtezan ; though it is hardly to be supposed the 
Magyars were universally chaste before they borrowed the un- 
chastity -denoting word from their neighbours. There is an old 
Hungarian word ringyo, meaning the lowest of prostitutes. 

f This is somewhat too free in the original : 

Ijedtemben bevizeltem a' gatyamban. 

The g-fffya is the linen underdress (drawers) worn by the Hun- 
garians in warm weather. 



Meg azt mondjak : uem illik a' tancz a' Magyarimk. 

A VERY pretty piece of dreaming to fancy that a Magyar 

In leathern shoes and shortened breeches,* can dance ! O, 

no; but see him clad 
In rattling spurs and plumy head-dress ; f and then, and 

then, when full of joy, 
Before his pearl-broued Magyar maiden, O then behold 

the Magyar boy. 

* The Magyars hold the short breeches and shoes of their Ger- 
man neighbours in very great contempt, and deem spurs so essential 
to a dancer, that they have an expression betokening that " a 
dancer without his spurs is a soup without salt, a kiss without a 

t The kalpag, or Hungarian national cap. It is made of fur, 
and decorated with rows of feathers. Feathers are used in Hun- 
gary on many occasions similar to those in which ribbons are 
employed by us, as for example, by recruiting parties. 

J The pasta is the ornamented head-dress of the unmarried 
women of Hungary, Slovakia, and Servia. Formerly none but 
virgins were allowed to wear it, and it was taken from the bride 
with many ceremonies on the day of marriage, when conducted 
to the abode of the bridegroom. On the following morning mar- 
ried women replaced it, or rather surmounted it by the Foko- 
to. The pasta is composed of a number of bandages turned 


Our Magyar dance they say is lonely, a melancholy dance 

they say; 
But see a Magyar foot when twinkling is it not sportive, 

glad and gay ? 
Go to the Shimian fields and tell me, if ever fancy's busy 


Dwelt on a scene so brightly joyous, or followed a more 
rapturous dance.* 

The dance of Gaul is affectation ; and light though German 
dances be, 

They are but an eternal sameness a wearisome mono- 
tony : f 

round the head, and often ornamented with pearls. A hair pin, 
generally of silver, and in the form of a dagger, was struck 
through it. 

* Lam Somogy Varmegyeben a' tanczot meg jarjak 
Sot hogy ugrost vonnjanak, azt is alig varjak. 

See how, in the province of Somog, they dance that dance ; 

There is no lingering, till the ugros is danced through. 
The Ugros is the gay and cheerful dance ; the ferbunkos the slow 
and formal it is used when recruits are engaged. 

t This is true of the German waltzes, to which it refers. The 
Magyar dance is exceedingly varied in its figures. Dr. Rumy tells 
me, that on one occasion an English traveller noted down the 
many changes of figure in a Magyar dance, and they amounted to 
more than a hundred. My friend, who thinks that there is a 
strong resemblance between the national character of the En- 
glish and the Magyars, will have it that even in their dances this 
is the case. The general tone of the Magyar feeling is melan- 
choly and pathetic. 


And gloomy are the English dances a heavy and a tire- 
some chain ; 

But ours, but ours were consecrated, aye ! down from old 
King David's reign. 



Ha te cngem* csak mulatsagbol szeretsz. 

THY very smiles my heart o'ershade, 
They speak but of thy cold disdain ; 
Could I uproot thee theijce, fair maid ! 
My heart might rest in peace again. 

Thy gentle spirit cannot know 
What hours of woe I pass for thee ; 
Thou couldst not try affection so, 
Nor trifle with a wretch like me. 

How oft, in evening's twilight hour, 
I've pass'd for thee thy dwelling round, 
And struggling 'gainst love's mighty power, 
With heavier, heavier chains was bound ! 

List, O my treasure ! List ! for all 
Are thine of thought's best offerings : 

O O 

List to thy slave's, thy suppliant's call 
Break his dark chains, and lend thy wings. 



Nem hitten volna hogy igy tegy. 

I NEVER dream'd that thou couldst be 
So treacherous and so cold to me ; 
Once thou o'erflow'd'st with tenderness, 
As now with pride and scorn's excess. 
Thy love was but a faint esteem 
Mine, bright and warm, as summer-beam ; 
And thine indifference wounds me more 
Than hate or grief could wound before. 
I vow'd I will not break the vow, 
Though pledged to one so cold as thou ; 
I'll keep the sacred oath I swore, 
Till o'er me death shall close its door ; 
And then, even then, my slumbering clay,* 
My crumbling bones, from day to day 
Shall pour forth sighs to thee to thee 
Till not a fragment rests of me. 
Then say upon my grave's green breast, 
" Here slumbers in his bed of rest, 
One whom I loved and to despair 
Betrayed him. Yes ! he slumbers here." 

* Akkor is meg liiilt poraim Then will my cold dust- 
fvoni por. Poraim with the plural suffix : pulveres met. 



I have no other wish, no prayer. 
Say that my passion was sincere, 
And my reward, to die and say, 
I pined in silent thought away ; 
And in my dying agony 
I spoke, I thought, alone of thee. 



Bokros bd habjai ream todultanak. 

O'ER me are affliction's waters in their heaviest currents 

They have swept away all pleasure every pleasure time 

had stor'd ; 
Slanderous, poisoning tongues have pierced me with their 

hideous calumnies, 
Hence I hang my head in sorrow hence my trackless 


Mourn for me, ye gloomy forests mourn for me, ye dew- 
huns; trees 


Mourn for me, ye scattered roses have ye witnessed griefs 
like these ? 

Wandering for the maid I cherish'd vainly for that maid 
I roam ; 

'Twas for her I left my father's, mother's, brother's, sis- 
ter's, home. 

I must wander ! heavy burthen is my heart ! a weight like 

lead ; 

Here for me is no abiding where shall I repose my head ? 

T 2 


I have nought but foes around me brother, friend, ac- 
quaintance, none ; 

They would fain betray the wanderer fain would hear his 
dying groan. 

But disease sits darkly on me, and I feel my strength de- 
cay ; 

Here I may not tarry longer Pilgrim of the earth, away ! 
Come away ! the steeds are waiting I am ready to be 

gone : 

Forward, forward on thy journey -time is calling on- 
ward on. 


Kurva az annya rosz embernek, egy szo ligy mint szaz ! 

OUT with it ! the knave is a miscreant, and more, 

Who behind your back says what he wont say before ; 

To the yells of foul slander as little I list, 

As I list to the howl of a dog in the mist. 

Let his tongue in his mouth-roof to rottenness turn ; 

My God shall assist me his slanders to spurn. 

Let the world go to wreck, if the vine-trees be spared, 
And their rich ruby drops without culture be reared ; 

Our minds to enlighten, 

Our spirits to brighten, 

Hurra ! and hurra ! and hurra ! to the pledge ; 
Dive down to the crystalline deeps from the edge. 

I know of a city, and Buda its name ; 
Near Buda flows onwards the Duna of fame ; 
In Duna's a fish 'tis the Hartsa* o'er all 
May the blessing of God's own benignity fall ; 
And joy with the honest and excellent be, 
While the worthless are given to infamy. 

* Hartsa Silurus glanis. LINN. 


Yes ! let bliss be with all from God's bounty divine, 
And the clouds drop down rain, and the cellar give wine ; 
And our garments be free from the taint of a spot ; * 
Our Magyars rule Olah, and Nemet, and T&.f 

God give us all blessing, 

Wine, roast, salt possessing ; 

Give oats to the Pole, 

To our foes the grave's hole, 

To Magyar community, 

Health, peace, and unity, 

Wine and roasted meat beside, 

But first a good and lovely bride. 

* Ne legyen ruhankon semminemii folt on our clothes let 
there be no spot. Foltos N^met Spotted German is in Hungary 
a common term of opprobrium. 

f Oldh Wallachiah. Nemet German. Tot Slavonian. 
% The original has all this variety of measure. 



Rakos mezon egykor, Pesti vasarkor. 

FROM the smiling fields of Rakosh,* on the market-day of 

Lo ! an Over-Tiszian Chikosh in his snowy bunda drest ;f 

Bunda wearing, bagpipes bearing, 
And he seeks the " Three Cups' " Tavern, where they sell 

of wine the best. 

There they jok'd the sheep-clad Chikosh asked him if in 
Tiszian land 

People spoke the Magyar language, and could Magyar un- 
derstand ? 

Or if Tiszians spoke like Grecians ? 

So when they had ceased their laughing, thus he answered 
out of hand : 

" Our Hungarians out of pitchers drink the overflowing 

Spice their food with rich paprika, and from ancient plat- 
ters dine ; 

Your Hungarians are Barbarians, 

And the manners of our fathers, scouted by such sons, de- 

* Rakosh is an extensive plain near Pest. 

t Tula' Tiszan levo Csikos bundastiil. The Csikos is the 
keeper of wild horses. Their dress (the bunda} is a cover ing of 
sheep-skins and linen trousers. They generally carry bagpipes.. 


" Your Danubeans, not Hungarians out of tinkling glasses 

Eat their roast from lattin dishes, pleased to hear their 

glasses chink ; 

Silly traitors ! while their betters 
Think they are but bastard Magyars, though they say not 

all they think. 

"We have not a Tiszian hostess none! but speaks our 

Magyar ; 
Here they prattle out their German pretty patriots they 

are ! 

But if German they prefer, man, 
Soon would each wine-drinking Magyar fly from their in- 

fected bar. 

*' Priests and preachers midst our Tiszians speak our Ma- 

gyar tongue alone ; 
E'en our Rusniakian papas make the Magyar tongue their 

own ; 

Here, Teutonic, or Ratzonic;* 
Any, any thing but Magyar and of Magyar nothing- 


[This composition is very characteristic of the Hungarian feel- 
ing, and notwithstanding a certain air of vulgarity about it, 1 
have thought it well worth I'vescrvmg.] 

* Ra/cU, Servian, 



A' szercncse csak jatszik. 

O FORTUNE ! thou capricious tiling ! 

Flitting on low or lofty wing ; 

Now scattering round thee honey-dew, 

Now dark drops of poison too : 

All thy vanities well I know, 

Joy is a heap of mountain-snow ; 

Fond words are the forms in the stream that dwell, 

As sweet and brittle as the honey-cell. 

Thy heart I worship and dwell with thee 

Wherever thou go, whatever thou be ; 

For thee to live, and for thee to die, 

Were a bright and a blessed destiny. 

But a time may come, when my heart, set free, 

Shall bring no tribute of love to thee ; 

And the sunshine of joy, long veil'd, may soon 

Pour in my path the light of noon. 



Hat mar csak Isten hozzatok : igy e'uekelek. 

GOD bless ye ! God bless ye ! God bless ye ! I say ; 
The horses are harnessed,* and I must away ! 

Old friends ! Early home ! 

All blessings be yours ! 

Let angels look smilingly down from heav'n's shores, 
Let the grace of the Deity hitherward come, 
And fling all its light o'er futurity's day. 

Farewell, holy Love ! Sweet Affection, farewell ! 
Here let sports full of joy, gay-toned harmony dwell, 

And freedom and peace. 

Can I linger ? O no ! 

The steeds are prepar'd I must go I must go ; 
For the duties of life will allow no release, 
And its pleasures are buried in memory's cell. 

* Induliiak mar a' szekerek Already are the carriages on the 



Szomorti az ido,* el akar valtozni. 

DARK is the day O when shall it grow clearer ? 
Gone is my love and gone, his name is dearer ; 
Peace bless his path ; let no unkindness meet him ; 
Joy ever greet him ! 

Linger, sweet rose ! my tear of sorrow dews thee ; 
Fair as thou art, I know that I must lose thee ; 
Long is my journey gloomy clouds flit by me ; 
Wilt thou be nigh me ? 

Callous to fate, and careless of my being, 
Thee, only thee, I love thee only seeing ; 
Star of my heaven my sweet dove hov'ring over, 
Smile on thy lover ! 

* Ido The time, the weather. 



Angyalocskain, Angyalocskam. 

ANGEL ! bright angel of mine ! 
Azure-eyed maiden divine ! 
Would that sweet slumbers would chase thee,* 
And from my bosom displace thee ! 

Can I that moment forget ? 
Thou with thy eyelids so wet, 
Glidedst before me to greet thee, 
Never as then shall I meet thee. 

Dost thou forget it ? Forget ! 
Maidens will smile on me yet ; 
Maidens far brighter and fairer, 
One, thou false maid ! shall be dearer ! 

* Bar csak ccy alniat alhatnam " Would that I could sleep 
a sleep," or " dream a dream." ' Alom signifies, indifferently, 
sleep and dream. 



Lelkem ! sirva le borulok 

SPIRIT ! weeping, at thy feet 
I would sit, and rest with thee ; 

Nothing else is half so sweet, 
Nothing half so dear to me. 

When I leave my cottage door, 
From thy window glance on me ; 

See the gloomy tears I pour 
See me soon thou will not see. 

Call me. Were my sufferings known 
Thine indifference soon would pass ; 

Pity break thy heart, though stone 
Melt it, tho' it were of glass. 

Thine indifference ? Shall I tear 

Thy bright form from memory ? No ! 

More and more I love thee, dear ! 
As my sufferings stronger grow. 



Az elet ollyan, mint a' szel. 

LIFE is like the stormy breezes 

Raging with a restless sway ; 
Like the wintry wind that freezes 

Snow-heaps which soon melt away.* 

Age, age year, year overpowers ; 

Still they flow, and still they must ; 
And while children gather flower?, 

Aged fathers sleep in dust. 

Rouse thee, up to noble doing, 
Noble cares and thoughts pursue ; 

Even the boisterous wind, pursuing 
Its fierce course, wafts drops of dew. 

* De mint a' zivataroa tel 
Kiadvan me'rge't valtozik, i. e. 

Like the stormy winter, 

It changes when it has given out its poison (or anger). Mereg 
means both. 



Angyali kep termete. 

METHOUGHT there came from heaven above 

An angel in heaven's beauty clad, 

Bearing a talisman of love, 

That over earth dominion had ; 

She flung her amulet on me, 

I bowed what could I do, to ward 

That heaven-directed witchery, 

I, a poor sighing, tremulous bard ? 

'Twas love that formed her love that fiil'd 
Her frame with spirit when I heard 
Her name, my heart with transport thrill'd, 
A heavenly echo was the word ! 
A voice descended sounds divine 
Pour'd heavenly music on mine ears ; 
Sweet voices uttering " She is thine, 
And thou, blest son of song ! art hers." 

Yes ! I am thine this thought alone 
Fills all my soul with ecstacy, 
And two divided hearts are one ; 
O wonderous miracle ! to see 


Such blending such dissolving? bliss ! 

O > 

Two hearts one feeling one desire 
A doubled joy concentred this, 
This only could love's power inspire. 

But midst life's transitory things, 

Love must be transient time, which flies 

With all life's treasures on its win2;s, 

O 7 

Will not forget life's ecstacies. 

Yet, come what may and chance what will, 

If love and faith in union be, 

There will be bliss in loving still, 

And this shall be a bliss for me. 




A, A, A Eljen a' nagy csutora. 

A, A, A life to the gay Csutora : 
A greater joy than to revel o'er a 

Flowing cup can the heart desire ? 
A, A, A life to the gay Chutora. 

E, E, Excellent is the embrace 

Of a friendly hand and a friendly face ; 

Pour the cup, and fill it higher : 
E, E, Excellent love's embrace ! 

I, I, I'll embrace it, nor i- 
Dly from its dewy lip-press fly ; 

Deeply drink, and lift it high ; 
I, I, I'll embrace it I ! 

O, O, O ! it sparkles so, 
Joy, love, beauty overflow ; 

Envy shall pass us sighing by ; 
O, O, ! it sparkles so ! 

U, U, Union and joy the fu- 

Ture days shall brighten of me and you, 

Sorrow shall fling its burdens down ; 
U, U, Union for me and U. 



Y, Y, Youth flits speedily by, 
Rapture is here with her lightning eye; 

Sorrow, begone with thy funeral frown 
Y, Y, Youth flits speedily by. 

A, E, I, 0, U, Y, should we throw 

A cloud of darkness o'er pleasure's brow r 

A, E, I, O, U, Y, 
Y should we darken pleasure, Y ? 

The Csutora is the wine-flask which is used by Hungarians 
on their journeys. This composition I have introduced as a spe- 
cimen of a not unfrequent play upon letters and words among 
the Magyars. It must be read with indulgence ; but it was 
desirable to give correct notions of the varieties of popular 
composition. As illustrative of my translation, I copy the two 
first verses of the original : 

A' nagy csutorahoz. 

A, A, A 'Eljen a' nagy csutora 
Szomjas torok tutora 
Ki ne fogyjon a' bora ! 
A, A, A 'Eljen a' nagy csutora. 

E, E, E Adjuk e gym its kezibe 
Hadd folyjon ki izibe 
A' mi szorult kozibe 
E, E, E Adjuk egymas kezibe. 



Kertem alatt szant egy eke. 

A PLOUGH was ploughing near my garden, 
And near the plough a stripling * stood ; 

So fair his form I could not leave him, 
I could not leave him if I would. 

There is recruiting in the village ; 

They say, Wilt thou a soldier be ? 
And once I said, In truth I'm willing; 

O ! many a maiden wept for me. 

The heaven is white, is white o'er Buda ; 

And lov'st thou me, my lovely one ? 
O if I lov'd thee not, had ever 

Thy maid her arms around thee thrown : 

But I have fallen now and anguish 

Of body, heart, and soul is mine ; 
My youth I clad in weeds of sorrow, 

And o'er departed pleasures pine. 

Hasznos Mulatsdgok, No. XL VII. p. 360, 1819. 

* Original Fattyu bastard ; sometimes used sportively, as the 
English \\ou\felloiv sad fellow, good fellow. 



'Edes Kincsem, Tubiczatu. 

MY darling dove, my treasure dear, 
And is thy love indeed sincere ? 
If not sincere, tell me so; 
I will no longer near thee go. 

'Twas long and it will longer be 
Ere other maid takes place of thee, 
Whose feeble arms on me shall rest, 
Upon my weary shoulders prest. 

Plague on her, plague upon her name ! 
The maiden is a haughty dame ; 
Her mother is a witch,* and they 
Have plotted only to betray. 

Hasznos Mulatsdyok, No. VIII. 1820. 
* Boszorkany Sorceress. 



Netu vagy legeuy, nein vagy nem mersz toletn kerni. 

A VERY pretty fellow, you, 
Who know not what to say nor do, 
But stuttering stand, like one afraid 
Heaven help the boy ! ah! well-a-day ! 
Who knows not what to do or say 
To please a laughing Magyar maid. 


Viz, viz, viz. 

WHERE are waters bright and clear 
As Korosian waters are ? 
Fairest fish have here their home, 
Here the sweetest maidens come ; 
Where are waters half so fair ? 
Where ? where ? where ? 



Kis csupor, uagy csupor, mind egy ha el fogy a* bor. 

LITTLE cup, or great cup, all is one when both are void ; 
When my wife can keep them full, both are equally en- 

Little glass, or great glass, all is one when fill'd with air, 
And my wife storms just the same when she finds that no- 
thing's there. 

Little spoon, or great spoon, all is one when dinner's wait- 

But my wife finds fault with both when she learns there's 
nought for eating. 

Little lid, or great lid, all is one when nothing's under ; 
When my wife peeps in she shows far more waspishness 
than wonder. 

Little store, or great store, all is one for hungry sinner ; 
Give my wife the food to dress, and I'll answer for our 



Csak azert szeretem. 

THE Magyar maid alone should be 

The wife of Magyar man, 
For she can cook, and only she, 

Our soup of red cayenne.* 

I'll nestle at the village end, 

There make my peaceful home, 
For there the gentle dovelets wend, 

And there my dove shall come. 

I mowed the grass, the sheaves I bound, 

And labor' d through the day, 
Then fell exhausted on the ground 

My maiden was away. 

Alas ! my heart is orphaned now, 

And laid in sorrow's train : 
The flowers are dead that wreath'd my brow, 

My sickle is in twain. 

* A' borsos levecsket the pepper soup, or paprika soup, made 
of the capsicum aunuuin of Linue. It is a favorite dish among 
Magyars, Turks, and Servians. 



Felse Barat ! nines itt Klastrotu. 

MONK, avaunt ! no cloister's this, 

Here no cloister's rules ; 
Doctor, off ! for here is bliss, 

Take your pills to fools : 
Wine alone, and joyous cheer 
Joyous cheer and wine are here ! 

Life we know is swift and vain, 

On its wings we ride ; 
With its pleasure, not its pain, 

Would we be supplied : 
Wine alone and joyous cheer 
Joyous cheer and wine are here ! 

If the Mantis flap his wing,* 

J Tis but a command 
Friendship's cheerful glass to bring 

With a steadier hand : 
Wine alone and joyous cheer 
Joyous cheer and wine are here. 

* Usse Mauo I Let the Mantis take it ! Mono means, at the 
same time, the Evil Spirit. 


-_ \N 

19 TOMPKIN8 SQUARE i ' ; , 9 




Nosza legeny a' tanczba ! 

LADS ! come hasten to the ball ! 
See the lasses waiting all ; 
Shake your feet and form the line : 
See the maidens ! Bring the wine ! 
Life is strung with pearls. 

Hark ! the spurs are tinkling sweet, 
Csizmas* echo on the feet ; 
Feet and hands move joyously, 
And the dance is full of glee : 
Life is strung with pearls. 

Where the smiling maidens be, 
There the happy youths we see ; 
Up and down the waving row, 
With Tartarianf steps they go : 
Life is full of pearls. 

* The csizmas or boots of the Hungarians. 

f The irruption of the Tatars in the time of Bela the Fourth, 
has still left its influences on the manners and language of the 


Woman 1 thou whose spring is past, 
Join the dance, though 'twere the last; 
Bask thee in the genial heat, 
Warm thy heart, and shake thy feet : 
Life is full of pearls ! 




Andrassy, Count George, of Szentkirdly and Kraszmis- 


Academy of Science and Literary of Hungary. 
Aikin, Mrs., Hampstead. 
Aikin, Miss, ditto. 
Alexander, Mr. W., Yarmouth. 
Alsager, T. M., Esq. 
Amersfoord, H., Esq., Leeuwarden. 
Ames, G. H., Esq., Clifton. 
Ames, Mrs. George, ditto. 
Amory, Samuel, Esq., Throgmorton Street. 
Amory, Mrs. Samuel, Upper Homerton. 
Amory, William, Esq., ditto. 

Anderson, , Esq., Nuneham, near Cambridge. 

Ashton, Thomas, Esq., Manchester. 
Aspland, Rev. Robert, Hackney. 
Astley, Miss, Chesterfield. 

Bedford, his Grace the Duke of. 
Badams, John, Esq., Birmingham. 
Bannatyne, Dugald, Esq., Glasgow. 


Barker, Edward Henry, Esq., Thetford. 
Barnard, John, Esq., Harlow. 
Barton, Bernard, Esq., Woodbridge. 
Belcher, James, Esq., Birmingham. 
Bell, E. R., Esq., Montague Close. 
Bell, William, Esq., 150, Cheapside. 
Bentham, Jeremy, Esq., Westminster. 
Berry, Kemp, Esq., Bache's Row. 
Bevan, Dr. E., Ross. 
Bezeredy, de Bezered, Stephen, Tolna. 
Bicknell, Elhanan, Esq., Herne Hill. 
Birmingham New Hall-street Book Society. 


Bolton, Thomas, Esq., Liverpool. 

Bo wring", Charles, Esq., Exeter. 

Bowring, Samuel, Esq., Stockwell. 

Bowring, Mrs., ditto. 

Brooks, S. R., Esq., Manchester. 

Broom, John, Esq., Broomfield Hall, Kidderminster. 

Broom, Mr. H., Elderfield. 

Broom, Miss, Blakebrook Cottage. 

Broom, Nevill, Esq , Kidderminster. 

Buchanan, Walter, Esq., 10, Upper Wohurn Place. 

Buckingham, J. S., Esq., Tavistock Square. 

Burnley, J., Esq., 6, Bryanstone Square. 

Burnett, Mr., 1, Bury Place, Bloomsbury. 

Burrell, Walter, Esq., M.P., 37, Conduit Street. 

Csaky, Count Joseph, of Keresztszeg. 
Cartwright, Mr., 10, Regent's Park Place. 
Cartwright, Miss F., ditto. 
Give, R. O., Esq., M.P., Suffolk Street, 


Chapman, Rev. E., Greenwich. 

Chorley, W. B., Esq., St. Anne's Street, Liverpool. 

Cobb, T. R., Esq. 

Coles, John, Esq., Harpur Street. 

Collins, Richard, Esq., Travis Isle, Manchester. 

Compigne, Samuel, Esq., Brixton. 

Cooper, George, Esq., Brighton. 

Cordell, Mr. J., Bishopsgate Street. 

Corrie, Mrs., Birmingham. 

Croft, Miss, Chesterfield. 

Crornpton, Miss. 

Dessewffy, Count Aurelius, of Csernek and Tarko. 

Dessewffy, Count Joseph, of ditto 

Donegal, Marchioness Dowager of, 1 7, Curzon Street. 

Darbishire, John, Esq., Manchester. 

Darbishire, Mrs., ditto. 

Darby, Francis, Esq., Colebrook Dale. 

Davy, Isaac, Esq., Fordton. 

Derese'nyi, John, of Derczen. 

Doane, Richard, Esq., 2, Queen's-Square Place. 

Dobrentei, Gabriel, Pesth. 

Doughty, Miss Mary, Yarmouth. 

Druce, Alexander, Esq., Kidderminster. 

Dudin, Henry, Esq., Sydenham. 

Durant, Richard, Esq., Copthall Court. 

Durant, George, Esq., ditto. 

Dyer, George, Esq , Clifford's Inn. 

Esztcrhazy, His Highness the Prince. 
Esztcrhazy, Her Highness the Princess. 


Erdody, Count Alexander, of Monyor6-Kerek, 

Eckersley, Peter, Esq., Manchester. 

Egerton, J., Esq., Peckham. 

Ellice, Edward, Esq., Grosvenor Street. 

Ellice, Lady Hannah, ditto. 

Ellis, Charles, Esq., Stockwell. 

Ellison, Michael, Esq., Farm, near Sheffield. 

Evans, Colonel de Lacy. 

Eyre, Charles, Esq. 

Favell, Samuel, Esq , 1 70, Fenchurch Street. 

Feilding, Lady Elizabeth, 32, Sackville Street. 

Fernie, Joseph, Esq., Leadenhall Street. 

Field, Charles, Esq., Clapham. 

Fisher, Esq., St. Ives, Huntingdon. 

Fisher, John, Esq., Highbury Park. 

Fisher, Mrs. John, ditto. 

Fisher, Thomas, Esq., Dorchester. 

Fisher, Miss, ditto. 

Fletcher, Rev. Charles, Nottingham. 

Flower, Miss, Dalston. 

Fontein, F. D., Esq., Harlingen. 

Fox, Rev. W. J., Dalston. 

Fraser, William, Esq. 

Freese, J. H., Esq., Hackney. 

Frend, William, Esq., Stoke Newington. 

Frisian Society of History, Antiquity, and Languages. 

Gyulai, Count Lewis, of Maros-Nemeti. 

Gyulai, Count Albert, Jim , of Maros-Nemeti and Nodaska, 

George, John, Jun., Esq., Chipham Rise, 


Gibson, Thomas, Esq., Milk Street. 

Gill, George, Esq., Salford, near Manchester. 

Godfrey, Miss, 1 7, Curzon Street. 

Golclsmid, Isaac Lyon, Esq. 

Grant, Daniel, Esq., Manchester. 

Grant, William, Esq., ditto. 

Greg, R. H., Esq., ditto. 

Gregory, G. P. F., Esq., 48, Gower Street. 

Gregory, J. S., Esq , 1. Bedford Row. 

Grey, Right Honourable Earl. 

Groningen University Library. 

Grote, George, Esq., Threadneedle Street. 

Grote, George, Esq , Jun., ditto. 

Hunyady, Count Francis, Chamberlain of H. I. M. the 

Emperor of Austria. 
Holland, Right Honourable Lord. 
Hacon, Dennis, Esq., Hackney. 
Hall, Andrew, Esq., Manchester. 
Hamaker, Professor, Leyden. 
Hamond, John, Esq., Fen Stanton, Hants. 
Harden, Philip, Esq., 83, Upper Thames Street. 
Harris, Rev. George, Glasgow. 
Harrison, Frederic, Esq., Threadneedle Street. 
Harvey, Mrs., 105, Guildford Street. 
Heron, James Knight, Esq. 
Heygate, James, Esq., Hampstead. 
Heygate, William, Esq. 

Hichens, Robert, Esq., 11, Threadneedle Street. 
Hichens, William, Esq., ditto. 
Hill, M. D., Esq., Chancery Lane, 


Hill, Rowland, Esq., Bruce Castle, 

Hitson, Dr. G., Bristol. 

Hobhouse, J. C., Esq., M. P., Albany Court. 

Hodges, G. L., Esq., Clifton. 

Hodgetts, Jos., Esq., 34, Burton Crescent. 

Hodgetts, J. W., Esq., ditto. 

Hornby, Thomas, Esq., Swithin's Lane. 

Houtenvile, William, Esq., Clifton. 

Hoyle, Thomas, Esq., May field, near Manchester. 

Hughes, Miss Susan, Devizes. 

Hume, Joseph, Esq., M.P., 6, Bryanstonc Square, 

Hume, Mrs., ditto. 

Hunt, Rev. D., Bedford. 

Hutchinson, Mrs., Clapton. 

Irvine, George, Esq., New Shoreham. 
Jackson, Jabez, Esq., New City Chambers. 
James, Evan, Esq , Kidderminster. 
James, Thomas, Esq., Doughty Street. 
Jeffrey, John, Esq., Weymouth Street. 
Jeffrey, Miss, Peckham. 
Jervis, Rev. John, Brompton Grove. 
Johns, Rev. W., Manchester. 

Karolyi, Count George, of Nagy-Karoly, 
Karolyi, Count Lewis, ditto. 
Karolyi, Count Stephen, ditto. 
Kendeffi, Count Adam, of Malomviz. 
Kay, Samuel, Esq., Manchester. 
Kenrick, Miss, Hampstead. 
Kcnrick, Rev. John, York, 


Kentish, Dr., Bristol. 

Kentish, Mrs., Bristol. 

Kinder, Henry, Esq., Hampstead. 

Kinder, Miss, ditto. 

Kinder, Miss M., ditto. 

Kington, Thomas, Esq., Charlton House, near Bristol, 

Kirkby, Samuel, Esq., Grove House, near Sheffield, 

Knowles, J. S., Esq., Glasgow. 

Lane, Miss, Bishopsgate Street. 
Lawford, Ed\vard, Esq., Drapers' Hall. 
Lawford, John, Esq , Hackney. 
Lee, Roger, Esq., Clapham Common. 
Leeuwarden Constanter Society. 
Lewin, Samuel Hawtayne, Esq., Hackney. 
Lewin, Thomas Fox, Esq., ditto. 
Lewis, Rev. L., Dorchester. 
Lister, Daniel, Esq., Hackney. 
Lister, Daniel Neal, Esq., ditto. 
Lister, Dr., Lincoln's Inn Fields. 
Lister, Mr., ditto 
Lockhart, J. G., Esq. 

Mednydnszky, Baron Aloys, of Mednyes. 
Monk, Honourable W. R., M. P., Regent's Park, 
Mackay, Alexander, Esq., Stockwell. 
Mackmurdo, Esq., Hackney. 
Malkin, Henry, Esq., Chesterfield. 
Malkin, Miss, ditto. 
Manchester College, York, 
Manning, Miss. 


Marshall, Lawrence, Esq., Clapton. 

Marshall, John, Esq., Dalston. 

Marshall, Samuel, Esq., ditto. 

Marshall, William, Esq., ditto. 

Marshall, Mr., ditto. 

Marshall, Miss, ditto. 

Marshall, Miss M., ditto. 

Martineau, John, Esq., Stamford Hill. 

Martineau, Mrs., Manchester. 

Methuen, Paul, Esq., Corsham House, Chippenham. 

Montagu, Basil, Esq., 25, Bedford Square. 

Montgomery, James, Esq., Sheffield. 

Moore, Thomas, Esq., Sloperton Cottage, Devizes. 

Moore, James, Esq., Salford, near Manchester. 

Morell, Rev. Dr., Brighton. 

Morgan, Miss, Clifton. 

Morgan, W., Esq., Equitable Assurance. 

Morgan, Arthur, Esq., ditto. 

Muir, Thomas, Esq., Glasgow. 

Muir, Thomas, Jun., ditto. 

Museum, National, Hungarian. 

Mushet, Miss Mary, Coleford. 

Napier, Thomas, Esq., Peckham. 
Naylor, Benjamin, Esq., Manchester. 
Neild, James, Esq., 12, Paper Buildings. 

Orleans, His R. H. the Duke of. 
Ogden, W. B., Esq., St. Mildred's Court. 
Oszler, Esq., Birmingham. 


Palfrey man, Luke, Esq., Sheffield. 

Parkes, Joseph, Esq., Birmingham. 

Pecchio, the Chevalier, Brighton. 

Pett, Mrs., Clapton. 

Pett, Francis, Esq., ditto. 

Pett, Samuel, Esq., ditto. 

Philips, Mark, Esq., Manchester. 

Philips, Mrs., ditto. 

Philips, Miss, ditto. 

Philips, Miss J., ditto. 

Philips, Miss P., ditto. 

Philips, Robert, Esq., ditto. 

Phipson, J. W., Esq., Birmingham. 

Phipson, Mrs. W., ditto. 

Piper, Rev. H. H., Norton, near Sheffield. 

Potter, Richard, Esq., Manchester. 

Potter, Thomas, Esq., ditto. 

Prescott, W. G., Esq., Threadneedle Street. 

Pryme, George, Esq., Cambridge. 

Puigblanch, Dr. Antonio, Camberwell. 

Pulley, Miss L., Hackney. 

Reviczky, Count Adam, of Revisnye, Chancellor Royal of 


Redl, Baron, Emeric, of Rasztina. 
Read, John, Esq., Norton, near Sheffield. 
Redding, C., Esq., 47, Berner's Street. 
Rees, Rev. Dr. T., Lark-Hall Lane, Clapham. 
Reid, T. W., Esq., Hampstead. 
Reid, Mrs. W., ditto. 
Richmond, Christopher, Esq., Middle Temple. 


Robberds, Rev. J. G., Manchester. 

Rothwell, R. H., Esq., ditto. 

Russell, Lord John, M. P., Woburn Abbey. 

Russell, Lord, Wriothesley. 

Rutt, Esq., Hackney. 

Rutt, Mrs. Henry, ditto. 

Rutter, John, Esq., M. D., St. Anne's Street, Liverpool. 

Sze'che'nyi, Count Paul, of Sarvari Feleo Vidik. 

Sze'chenyi, Count Stephen, ditto. 

Saraworth, John, Esq , Greenwich. 

Sanderson, T. R., Chowbent, near Manchester, 

Sampson, William, Esq., New York. 

Sapsford, Esq , Queen Anne Street. 

Scott, Sir Walter, Bart., Abbotsford. 

Scott, Thomas, Esq., Park Cottage, Devizes. 

Shore, Miss, Norton Hall. 

Shore, Offley, Esq , ditto. 

Shore, Samuel, Esq., ditto. 

Skene, P. 0., Esq., Temple. 

Slade, Robert, Esq , Doctors' Commons. 

Slade, William, Esq., ditto. 

Slater, Miss, Hampstead. 

Smale, John, Esq., Exeter. 

Smith, George, Esq., French Buildings, Liverpool. 

Smith, John, Esq., Manchester. 

Smith, Mrs., Dunstan Hall, near Chesterfield. 

Spencer, Miss, Clapton. 

Spyring, J. S. S., Esq., Brighton. 

Stanger, James, Jun., Esq., 53, Doughty Street. 

Steele, Joseph, Esq., St. Saviour's. 


Stevens, , Esq., Charter-House. 

Stevenson, William, Esq., Treasury. 

Stokes, Mrs., Chesterfield. 

Storm, Mrs. M., Newbold, near Chesterfield. 

Stutfield, C. B., Esq , Hackney. 

Stutfield, W., Esq., ditto. 

Suringar, W. H., Esq., of Leeuwarden. 

Surridge, Mr. Richard, Newgate Street. 

Sweet, Miss, Birmingham. 

Szemere, George, of Szemere. 

Szemere, Paul, of ditto. 

Teleki, Countess Dowager of, Baroness of Me'szaros. 

Teleki, Count Joseph, of Szek. 

Tagart, Rev. E., Torrington Square. 

Talbot, George, Esq., Green Hill, Kidderminster. 

Talbot, George, Jim., Esq , Honey Brook, ditto. 

Talbot, Henry, Esq., Oakland, ditto. 

Tayler. J. E , Esq., Manchester. 

Taylor, Edward, Esq , London. 

Taylor, Henry, Esq., ditto. 

Taylor, Richard, Esq., ditto. 

Taylor, John, Esq., Finsbury Square. 

Terrell, James, Esq., Exeter. 

Thomas, Mrs., Chesterfield. 

Thomas, -W., Esq., Lombard Street. 

Thomson, W., Esq., Glasgow. 

Tooke, W. E., Esq., Broad Street. 

Unitarian Chapel Library, Glasgow. 

Valle, Frederick, Esq. 

Vowler, William, Esq., St. Paul's Churchyard. 


Wesselenyi, Baron Nicholas, of Hadud. 

Wakefield, Francis, Esq., Mansfield. 

Wakefield, Robert, Esq., Hackney. 

Wakefield, Samuel, Esq., Hackney. 

Wallace, Rev. J. C. 

Walley, Mrs., Hackney. 

Walter, John, Esq., Barevvood. 

Ward, T. A., Esq., Park House, Sheffield. 

Watson, John, Esq., Holborn Hill. 

Waymouth, Henry, Esq., Bryanstone Square. 

Wiffen, J. H., Esq., Woburn. 

Wigan, A. L., Esq., 1, Ulster Place, Regent's Park. 

Wilkinson, , Esq., Sheffield. 

Wilkinson, Mrs. A , Chesterfield. 

Winkworth, Thomas, Esq., 150, Cheapside. 

Wood, G. W., Esq., Manchester. 

Wood, Mrs. G. W., ditto. 

Wood, Alderman Matthew, M. P., 5, George Street. 

Wood, Thomas, Esq., Little St. Thomas Apostle. 

Wright, J., Esq., Dalston. 

Ziehy, Count Nicholas, of V&sonyko. 



P. 2, for " Szitlyiiibol," read S/ittyialx.l 





Id e m 













" Korosbauya," 



" Virag," 



" regadtok," 



" imiitanek," 



" Any os 1st van Pal," .... 

Anyos latvan l\il 


" almonat," 

a, 1m o in at 










" sines," 



" szerelmes em nek," .... 







" Szivemnek Iegfels6gesl," 

Szivemnek legfels(-gcsb 


" Istennert," 


" nyoszobjaert," 


" Hazahoz," 


" szavahoz," 


" magahoz," 


" szam," 






"ez', 1 ' 



11 szukseges," 



"regel," , 



P. 103, for " k'hetnek," read lehetiick 



















" bu," 


" hogya," 



an yank 


" Pharuszkent," 


"dalhos, 5 ' 






" viragnak," 









" Szeszgard," 


" district," 










" utan eszterhaj megcs- 

utan eszterhaj mcgcs- 






" Shimig (Somo) ," 

SMmeg (Somogy) 






" Province of the White 

County of Szc*kes Fejer- 

Mountains (Stuhlweis- 

var ( Stuhlweissen- 














add after " garments," or rather, Let my tight iiadrag 

be torn 



P. 227, for " kozakost," read koziikost 

231, "flight," foot 

232, "liszbol," lisztbo'l 

" megvalasztanam," .... megvalasztanam 

233, "Vestprim," Veszprim 

235, "Sarga," Sarga 

"At," 'At 

"vot," vot 

236, "Avad," 'Avad 

237, " gyogyitotta," gyogyitotta 

238, "jotten," jottem 

240, "Matra," Matra 

" Province of Chenestz," County of Heves 

242, "Ollyam," Ollyan 

248, read Szur, peasant's cloak, Szuz mez, virgin honey 

249, for " musikaban," rauzsikaban 

250, "legedlet," t^gedet 

261, "a'," e' 

"kepet 1 ," keped' 

267, "Feui," Fene 

" Sarkany," Sarkany 

268, " ringyo," ringyo 

270, "ugros," Ugrds 

278, " seraminemii," semmin^mii 

284, " Angyalocskam," Angyalocskaui 

" alhatnam," alhatuain 

285, " bornlok," borulok 

286, "szel," sz&. 

290, "szorajas." szomjus 


H hicks, Rev. William, York. 
Taylor, Mrs, John, Finsbury Square. 



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